The Most Beautiful Part
by FireStorm00X
Summary: Heading into the war, Draco discovers what he is and what he will have to sacrifice. Harry, in an attempt to comfort him, finds himself in love. As the world fights to survive, Harry and Draco fight to be together. Slash HP/DM.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the basic story thing and even then it's unclear. JK Rowling and whoever else actually own the characters, settings, and things. **

**Done with the boring part. This is a new story. I'm real fond of it so I hope you like it too. If so, please let me know. **

**Love, FireStorm  
**

Malfoy searched his dorm room for his note book. It had notes from the advanced review session yesterday and he absolutely had to study them. Granger was probably already in Room 617 on the sixth floor and was getting impatient. Damn Blaise for reorganizing the room. He did that from time to time; called in house elves and had them completely rearrange and redecorate the little suite that they shared. A special privilege of Slytherin seventh years was that they only had to share a room with one other person. They had suites with a small sitting room, private bathroom and two separate bedrooms though Blaise insisted the decors always match. The theme now was modern; stainless steel, glass and dark wood with trendy, uncomfortable but cool looking chairs, stark or no patterns and few personal belongings on display. A show room really. Malfoy couldn't care less what his room looked like; really he was not _that_ high maintenance. All he needed was a comfortable bed and a desk and enough space for all his books.

He finally unearthed the notebook in a hide-away bookshelf behind one of the steel panels along the wall. He grabbed his bags and books and dashed into his sitting area where Blaise, Pansy, Knott, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent and the sixth years were sitting smoking and drinking.

"Headed off to study?" Blaise asked loudly, taking the hookah hose and handing his glass of scotch to Pansy.

"As usual," he said and left.

He couldn't remember all the details of how it started, exactly. Sometime during fifth year he had been studying in the classroom-turned-sitting-room when Granger popped in accidentally. He was reviewing charms because, really, it was his worst subject. Would he ever need a dish washing charm or plant watering charm? No. But he had to learn it because "A Malfoy never relies on those beneath him" so he had to know how to wash his dishes and water his plants with magic because doing it by hand was…too hard? He had done his own dishes (punishment for something) and watered his own plants (because he never allowed elves in his own green houses) and it was easier than learning the charms.

In any case, he had inadvertently asked Granger for help and they had spent several hours studying together. They soon realized it was easier and more efficient with someone else and formed a shaky, behind-the-scenes sort of truce and, now, perhaps a friendship. He was still rude to her in public but never meant it and she knew that and she did her best to casually defend him when Harry and Ron went off.

She was indeed sitting in one of the chairs with a book on her lap and a cheery fire going and the chandelier brightly lit and a tray of cookies and two steaming mugs of tea on the side table. When she got there first, which was always, she set up snacks for them and made sure the room was well lit so they didn't strain their eyes.

"Sorry I'm late," he said and kicked the door closed. "Blaise redecorated so everything is hidden."

She just hummed in response.

"Hermione?" he questioned, "You doing okay?"

"Of course," she looked up, "The stupid Ravenclaw prefects want to have a mid-winter dance."

He blanched, "Really?"

She nodded, "Quite the waste of time, I think."

"Agreed."

"Why did you pass up Head Boy?"

He looked at her, "What makes you think I was even offered the position?"

"You were, weren't you?"

"Of course I was," he sat down, "But I said no because a) I don't like the administration here, b) I didn't want to live away from my house, c) I have too much else to do and being Head Boy would complicate…things."

"Things?"

"Mostly my sleep schedule and it would make me feel guilty for letting Blaise host the Mid-Week Smoke and Drink A-thon."

"Is he _still_ doing that?" she asked. It was what Draco had walked through to get to his study session; upper-year Slytherins sitting around smoking hookah and drinking and gossiping. Two of the three were against major school rules and their gossip was always rude so it would have made he feel guilty that way too.

"It's tradition," Malfoy said, "Can't not have it."

"That's silly," she said. "Do you still smoke?"

"Meh," he shrugged, "When I feel like it."

"Oh." She turned the page in her book.

"How're the boys?" he asked, casually making conversation.

"Oh my god!" she slammed her book shut and turned to face him, "Ron said the _most_ ridiculous thing this morning."

Draco turned fully towards her, intent on listening.

"I woke them up for breakfast and Harry got up like usual and sort of zombie'd downstairs because I'm fairly certain he didn't sleep at all but Ron came down twenty minutes later and says 'someone really needs to tell Neville he snores' and Harry said, 'no, you snore, Neville barely breathes when he sleeps' and Ron says, get this, 'I don't breathe at all when I sleep.'"

Malfoy shook his head, "And you're dating him?"

She blushed, "He's not that bad…usually. He's nice to me and that's what's important."

"Everyone's nice to you Granger, if you date boys who are nice to you, you'd be shagging the whole school." He rolled his gray eyes.

She looked taken aback, "Just because we're dating doesn't mean we're shagging! Ron and I have never done anything more than kissed and even then it's not very often."

He turned back to her; shocked and intrigued, "Really? I didn't know chaste girls still lived. All I have to go on is Pansy and she shags on the first date while Millicent…well, she would but no one's asked her out."

Hermione blushed, "I just don't think it's an appropriate thing to do at school."

"What about the summer?"

"Then we're at his parent's house and that's even more inappropriate!"

"Merlin! If he doesn't get some action soon he's going to get drunk and snog Lavender or something stupid."

"He will not."

"You know he's probably wanking every night because, to be honest, he's seventeen, has a hot girlfriend and gets _no_ action. He can't possibly be happy about that."

"Yuk," she made a face, "How can you talk about that sort of thing?"

"It's just not a big deal, I guess. You only have to walk in on a roommate screwin' the pooch a few times before you are sort of forced to talk about it. We actually had a schedule worked out for fourth and fifth years…"

She laughed.

"I had Mondays and Wednesdays during lunch, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't but thanks," she blushed again.

"Though, come to think of it, I never had to use my time slot since I had Riann in fourth year and whatsherface…Colleen in fifth year."

"Who?"

"Riann was one of the French girls here for the Tournament and Colleen was some Hufflepuff girl who graduated that year; fun little distractions but nothing serious."

"You're such a playboy," she said.

"Here's my advice: get on your boyfriend or he'll do something stupid because, to be honest, he's Weasley and you know he will even if he still loves you. Your first time tends to be awkward but I promise it gets better."

She blushed again, "You are too sexual Malfoy."

"Father always says; a Malfoy is never inexperienced, he must know his way around women because then she never has a reason to go anywhere else. Though, it is a little ironic since mum's been having an affair with Severus since I was twelve…hmm," he rolled that thought around in his head.

"Really?"

"Let's just say she spends a lot of time 'in Dublin.'"

"What?"

"The Snape family has lived in Dublin for about three hundred years; it's where their ancestral home is."

"Oh," she nodded, "Does your father know?"

"Possibly," he shrugged, "If he does he never talks about it."

Narcissa was a charming woman and, according to every male friend Draco had ever had, she was "bloody hot" though Draco never appreciated his mother on that level. She had the same pale blonde hair as Draco and creamy skin and affluence for looking good and they shared their long legs and fingers and slim build and prominent cheek bones and pouty lips.

Draco had much less in common with his father. Beyond looking extremely similar there was little connecting them. Even now, though, the young heir was growing to look more and more like his mother. His youth was dominated by "oh, you look just like your father, how handsome" and "was Narcissa even involved?" ha. Ha. He personally thought he was an ugly kid with a pointy face and possibly the most annoying hairdo ever. His connection with Lucius was confined mostly to their intellect and understanding that men and especially Malfoy men, had to know how to control anyone. The ability to pick up a person's weaknesses instantly was something he learned and appreciated because it often got him exactly what he wanted. He knew it was better to be polite and just ask but that's not how Malfoys do thing and for no reason other than that he wanted to talk to Lucius as little as possible, he did things the Malfoy way.

"That's not a good home life," Hermione commented.

"True but I'm almost never home."

"What about the summers?"

"I'm at Blaise's, Pansy's, in Paris or Monaco."

"Oh."

They studied then, discussing trivial matters between debating magic formulas and the way spells interacted and whether or not runes were that necessary when dealing with smaller spells that would not counteract or negate each other anyways.

"Oh," Hermione looked at the clock, "It's nearly ten, I have to-"

The door opened, "Hey, 'Mione, where are you?"

It was Ron.

Draco considered then the extreme advantages to being either very tiny (so he could hide easily) or invisible.

"What the hell is that prick doing here?" Ron was immediately outraged and stomped over to where Malfoy was sitting.

"Ron, calm down," Hermione jumped in front of him and tried to stop him.

"What-"

"We were studying," he explained.

"I thought you were with Neville and Seamus!"

"Really?" She looked at him like he was a little bit dumb. "They're at Quidditch practice with Harry every Wednesday."

"I-" Ron made a face and then glared at Malfoy. "Why him?"

"He has the best marks in our classes, better than mine in some cases and we study best together."

"But…he's a jerk." Ron was becoming more confused.

"I know," she said, "But he's a good study partner so-"

"What's going on?" Harry walked in then and stopped upon seeing the occupants…mostly upon seeing Malfoy. "Mione…?"

"I should get going," Draco stood and began to put his books away.

"Where are you going, Malfoy, running away?" Ron tried to pick a fight again.

Malfoy quietly sighed because he knew what was expected of him, "I'm trying to leave without having to point out that it's because of your atrocious odor, Weasley. I know your family is poor but must you forgo showering even here? They don't charge for it, I promise."

Ron snarled and tried to get closer but Hermione stayed put in his way.

"You're a total prat, Malfoy. No wonder you don't have any friends," Ron said.

Malfoy lifted his head, looked him right in the eye and smirked, "Oh, Weasley, you're stupider than you look." He put his bag over his shoulder and walked out, "You should take my advice Granger, it's actually fun once you get used to it."

He walked out, brushing past Potter who, unfortunately, was now about three inches taller than him. Draco had stopped growing at five' nine but the Gryffindors tended to top six foot. Bloody giants.

"What advice?" He heard Ron ask.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall was approaching the room from the other direction.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked. Though a prat to her students he was perfectly respectable to her. He had actually known Professor McGonagall since he was very young since she worked with Snape, his godfather. In public she always appeared disapproving but she really rather like him.

"I received Severus' invitation to his Boxing Day party, I should hope you'll be going." Severus had the entire faculty over on Boxing Day. Most of them got quite drunk and had a wonderful time outside the pressures of the professional setting.

"Oh, of course ma'am," Draco had gone to the party each year since he was a eleven, helping to serve drinks and food and make sure Trewalny did not hurt herself.

"Very well then," she patted his shoulder. That was as much affection as she ever showed for anyone, in public at least.

He kept going and rail-slid down all six staircases even though the paintings yelled at him that he was going to break his neck and die. He kept going into the dungeons, past doors and doors and tapestries and people and statues and torches and armor. He happened upon an expanse of wall and told it, "Patris" and it opened for him. The large, circular opening gave him a view of the huge common room stuffed with couches, sofas, chairs, tables, three fireplaces and book shelves beyond reason. The shelves had dual purposes: they both encouraged reading and intelligence in the snakes but were also passages into dorm rooms. He pulled a book and followed the narrow, steep passage into a room which connected all the seventh year boy's dorms. He took the far left door and entered his smoke-filled steel and glass sitting room.

They had switched to something other than tobacco in the hookah.

"Hey, Drake," Blaise looked at him, "Smoke?"

"Not tonight," he walked past them into his room and set all his things down. Then he returned and picked up the fifth of apple twist vodka sitting, half done, on the table. "I'll take this though."

Blaise grinned.

Draco did not smoke much this year, he stuck to cigarettes or the shishah they used in the hookah. Last year he had smoked weed with them sometimes. The Malfoy family had an epic tolerance for alcohol though, bred for generations to be able to out drink anyone; Draco alone could go through a fifth and still be totally in control of himself.

"So how was studying?" Pansy asked, she sort of rolled her head to look at him, indicating she was wasted.

"Fine," he said and took a swig, "How was…smoking?"

"Awesome," she said with a giggle. "Blaise says you should study less and shag more."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Sometimes I want to agree."

"Why _do_ you always study on Wednesdays? You could be here, with us."

"It's just a convenient day of the week for me and you will always be here and I will always see you. I cannot retake exams or rewrite essays whenever I want," he said and drank more.

"Nor can you redo friendships or re-live time," Blaise said, "You should live your youth while you can."

"I'll always be young, Blaisey." He said and almost laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione walked back to the dorms with Harry and Ron. She was quiet because Ron was still fuming and Harry…hadn't spoken in a while.

"I'm sorry I lied," she finally said.

Ron grunted and Harry elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Ow," he pouted, "I just don't understand why you had to study with that prick."

"He's smart, Ron, and you never study with me and…it's just easier when you have someone to work with. Any gaps in my knowledge he fills and vice versa, we just…we talk and he's really nice…sometimes."

"Nice? Malfoy? He's a complete jerk! He-he-he used the "m" word on you."

"I know, Ron, but he's mature now and I'm over it and so is he. Malfoy apologized, Ron, really he did and he says he couldn't care less that your family is poor or that Harry's an orphan and he just says those things because it is what people expect him to do. He really doesn't have anything against either of you except that you hate him."

"Damn straight I hate him."

"Harry, you don't, do you?"

The black haired boy looked a little taken aback. "Sure I do…err, well, I know I don't like him at all. I don't know if it's hate though. He is a jerk and totally deserves a good punch to the nose but if he doesn't mean any of the things he says, I guess that makes him a little less despicable."

"Harry!" Ron looked flabbergasted. "This is Malfoy we're talking about! MALFOY."

"I know, Ron, but really, it's a little ridiculous to hate him if he doesn't hate us. It's been seven years; I'm kind of tired of this one."

He sputtered and frowned. "Fine, you two can trust the ferret but I reserve the right to say "I told you so" when he betrays you."

"Okay, Ron," Hermione agreed mostly to help him calm down.

Hermione quietly avoided them after they entered Gryffindor. She neatly slipped upstairs and into her room and she sat on her bed and sighed.

Across Gryffindor, in his dorm, Harry was spread out on his bed looking at the notebook he had subtly stolen from the study room. It had a snake insignia on the cover so he assumed it was Malfoy's.

Every page was the same: detailed class notes with a heading of the class, topic and date. The handwriting was perfectly straight up-and-down but elegant; the sort of thing muggles paid hundreds of dollars to have printed on their wedding invitations. It was looped and clear, easy to read, and beautiful in black ink against thick parchment. Harry could tell it was something the prat had probably had a tutor for and spent hours and hours perfecting because it was a pureblood thing to do. Sometimes, though, only sometimes, pages were covered in drawings instead of notes. Scratchy, unfinished lines of a work in progress and often the most simple subjects; hands and ink wells and chairs or the back of a person sitting in front of him, sometimes the teacher or the window and what was beyond it. Harry examined each drawing for clues as to what class he was in but could not really tell for most of them.

Other times another handwriting appeared; this one was jagged, slanted to the right and fast, like the person couldn't write fast enough to keep up with their thoughts. The interactions were obviously notes passed back and forth during classes:

_Are you coming to the Mid-Week?_ The mystery person asked.

_No, you know I study on Wednesdays_

_But you're dreadfully boring these days; you hardly even come to Saturday nights anymore._ It was diagonal across the page and the response was written in perfectly straight line.

_I know, I just have a lot to think about now_

_Like?_

_Nothing_

_A girl?_

_Maybe_

Then, the next thing was a drawing of four animals; a badger, snake, raven and a lion. The lion was circled.

Harry wondered then if it was in reference to Hermione and he was worried.

The next page was another drawing, this one of a boy's profile. He was a gorgeous boy with a strong jaw and thick lips. He was one of Malfoy's posse. Harry recognized him to that extent and that they had Potions, Transfiguration and Charms together. Harry did not have a name for this boy though. He was half-Nubian and half-Persian, a pureblood Slytherin and the prefect for said house. He was always in trouble for mouthing off to teachers, throwing parties or being caught smoking in the Astronomy tower. More notes were exchanged beneath the picture.

_You make me look so pretty, Drakey_

_You know I hate that name, Blaise _

That was the boy's name; Blaise Zabini.

A snake if there ever was one.

-------

Pansy had always been the prettiest girl in her house.

Always.

From the start of First Year it was obvious who all the boys liked and it was even more obvious who all the girls disliked. She, even at eleven, had strong eyes and full lips and the soft features boys looked for in a younger girlfriend. She dated Third and Fourth Years and was always seen with the most promising bachelors at banquets and galas outside of school. As she aged her appearance grew stronger, her face grew angles and her lashes thickened and her curves got dangerous. She had been a little pudgy as a younger girl but the puff moved from her middle to her bust and that got her the attention of even more boys. She liked to wear short skirts because she had long legs and she liked to leave a few buttons undone because she had a lot of cleavage and she liked to wear her hair down because it was thick and black and curled sometimes if she slept on it right and she always looked wild and like she had maybe just been snogging someone. She spent most of her time with Draco and Blaise and Theodore and there were always rumors about her and the Malfoy heir but she made it a point to let Slytherin know they were only friends. A point best made by always being seen kissing other boys. The Parkinsons were famous for being...loose women and all pureblood men knew that.

She was currently sitting in Divination playing with a nail file and wondering if she should have her nails painted silver or black for the upcoming week. This class always bored her and though she was intelligent she had no work ethic and so, in that stead, tended to take classes that required little of her.

"My dear," Trewalney spoke to her, "What do you see in your crystal ball?"

Pansy looked at it for the first time that day, "A house on fire," she made up and the Professor reared back and began explaining the meanings of that symbol and how it spelt doom for her family and pain for her life and blah, blah, blah.

Parkinson continued to list pros and cons of each nail color possibility. She had been more than a little hung over that morning and had dipped into a hang-over relieving draught and a pepper-up potion because she did not think she could get through the day without it. Blaise called it "mixing your uppers and downers" and he claimed it was dangerous. Pansy was certain it was not an issue and she had promptly taken a drink of vodka to prove it.

Draco had disappeared around midnight last night and Pansy personally was convinced he was sleeping with Granger though he insisted they only studied together. Pansy had quietly rolled her eyes at the claim and moved on.

Why did he have such a soft spot for Granger?

She had a little nose and eyes that were almost too close together and thin lips and large front teeth and she was too thin and had no curves and she was annoying and a smart-alec and bothersome. At least in Pansy's opinion.

As Blaise saw it, and Blaise saw everything in an unbiased way; Granger was...cute. She was not pretty or gorgeous or beautiful but she was cute. She was petite and sort of short (five-four or five-five, maybe). She had a little, upturned nose and good cheekbones and her hair was infinitely better than First Year. It was straight and in control and a good color, it had highlights and undertones and was smooth though Granger never really did anything with it. She dressed fine, skirts were sort of long and she always had a jumper on which made her look both heavy and curve-less. Blaise personally thought she just needed a confidence boost (the exact sort of thing a makeover or good shag could produce and he was only willing to provide the former).

Blaise was sitting in Arithmacy with said lioness and drawing little fashion designs on his notes instead of actual notes. He was trying to decide if she would look better with a pony-tail or a full up-do. This is what Blaise did with most of his time. Spot girls with appearance issues and then take whole weeks worth of class periods to design out a line of clothes for them.

Blaise himself was, as described by all females in the school, a hotty biscotti with a body. Thanks?

He had epic features, that was certain. He had strong cheekbones and a cut jaw, almond shaped eyes with a perfect brow bone over dark, long lashes. He was tall, a little taller than Potter, actually, so around six'three. He had large hands with long fingers and thin arms and broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had strong, long legs and great balance and he could run forever though he hated to sweat so he only really ran outside in the winter. He carried himself like a king because, well, that's what his ancestors were in Persia. His Nubian half had been warriors and guards for the Egyptian pharaohs but gained magic from...somewhere, he didn't know and then returned to Nubia and reigned for a few hundred years before the English invasion. He had smooth skin and kept his hair in a small afro tamed by a white band and, sometimes, a charm or two though it was generally in bad style to use appearance charms regularly. Purebloods viewed it as a form of narcissism and though they were all self-absorbed brats it was still looked down upon.  
Blaise puffed out his cheeks and added the finishing touch to his most recent drawing.

"Who are you redesigning today?" Draco asked.

"Granger," he answered, "She'd be cuter this way."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh just because you're doing her doesn't mean you can disagree that she has some serious issues," he said and pointed to her back, "Jumpers, really?"

"Shut-up," Draco said, "I'm not sleeping with her, get over that."

Blaise just gave him the "if you say so" look and continued, "I think she could benefit from a makeover."

"She may be willing to take your help, too," Draco said.

Blaise almost made a loud noise of excitement, "Really?"

Draco nodded.

"On it," Blaise made a note to himself and then sent a little magic note to Pansy.

_Project Granger: you in? _

She thought for a moment and filed her nails while considering the options

_In _She responded.

Blaise became very excited about his new project. He began deciding which designs were practical for her, which she would actually like and how he could convince her about the ones she didn't like because, really, all the outfits were fantastic, it was just a matter of making sure she knew that.

Draco yawned and kept sketching the back of Potter's head. He slowly began to add wrinkles to the clothes and highlight to the hair. Class was especially boring that day and his usual note taking had fallen away to passing notes with Blaise and drawing.

Everyone knew it but Draco was ridiculously good looking. His hair had darkened a little over the past few years and settled into a mature ice blonde; not silver or gold but there were hints of a pale yellow and whites that gave depth and shine to his now long locks. He had grown out his hair and only slicked it back if his father was coming (it made his forehead look HUGE and exposed his slightly pointy ears). He had gunmetal, thunder storm gray eyes and white lashes (a lady killer for sure). Girls always fawned over him and spoke of his gorgeous eyes and how he was 'totally dreamy.' He had thin fingers and had a medium build though rather narrow hips and long legs strengthened by all the running he did with Blaise. He trained for Quidditch during the summer though it had to be indoors because his mother liked him having only a healthy glow and if he was dark she got angry. Draco tended to think he looked a little sickly, being so pale all the time, but Blaise insisted it was classy to not have to be tan. Draco stood by his belief that you had to be a little tan to be healthy though Blaise laughed about the idea of being a "little tan." The Nubian was as dark as they came and had never had to tan in his life.

Draco itched his nose. It was a perfect nose; straight, just long enough with a perfect ending just so; he didn't want to look like a pixie with a turned up nose, nor did he want to be Snape with a hook on his face. Draco appreciated his features and his many talents and privileges and advantages. He appreciated his parents and friends and house and intelligence and he was more or less neutral on the little war being fought. Draco then realized that there was very, very little in his life that he had any passion for.

Blaise had his fashion and his mother both of which he loved deeply. Pansy had her looks which she maintained with the greatest rigor. Theodore had his intelligence which he pursued unrelentingly. They all had strong, unwavering views on the despicable nature of the Dark Lord and what he was doing and they talked at great length of approaching Dumbledore and joining the light.

Draco? He studied, yes, but because he had to, not because he wanted to. He was good looking, yes, but he didn't have to do anything for that. He had his parents, yes, but his father and he only got along in public because that's the only time they ever spoke or saw each other and his mother, well, she had liked him more when he was a tiny child; more of a toy or doll for her to dress up and take care of. Since he didn't really need her she didn't really care about him. He did not want to be a Death Eater, not at all, but he did not really care to be an Auror either. He disagreed with the unwarranted killing on innocents but he also disagreed with the secrecy and double-sided policies of the Ministry.

He asked Hermione later that day about her willingness to allow a snake control over her wardrobe. She accepted with great hesitation.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco coughed loudly and caught the attention of his godfather and professor. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I was just wondering, sir, if it was a particularly good idea to do this potion today. Why not do a simple potion, allow Weasley to muddle it up and get sent to the hospital wing then he'll be out of class tomorrow and we can actually get something done without fear?"

The Slytherins laughed and Snape almost smirked but caught himself. "Now, now Mr. Malfoy, he got into advanced potions just like you did so we must give him the equal chance to prove himself."

"Of course, sir," Malfoy shot the red head a sneer and turned back to his seat.  
Harry flipped to the next page in Malfoy's notes.

_Where do you suppose we should go for Christmas? _Blaise's handwriting asked in the middle of some History of Magic notes.

_I'm feeling partial to the Alps or maybe Colorado; somewhere with snow_.

_There's snow here though. _

_I'm tired of English snow. _

_Understandably, always wet and dreary _

Harry rolled his eyes; they were even judging the quality of regular snowfall. What rich kids.

Ron elbowed him, "Do you know what we're supposed to do?"

Harry looked at the board then at Ron and then at Hermione (who had already started working) and then he shook his head, "No idea, sorry mate."

"Blast," Ron bit his bottom lip, "I wasn't paying attention either."

Hermioe looked at them accusingly, "You two are unbelievable; you knew we were brewing today, why would you ignore instructions?"

"I just tune out as soon as I get here," Ron said, "It is indiscriminant."

"Big word for a small brain," a voice said from above him. Ron looked up to see Blaise standing there. His tie was loose around his neck and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows while his shirt was untucked and his pants were dusted in what appeared to be ash and dirt.

"What do you want?" Ron asked.

"I'm here because Malfoy is brewing our potions and Professor Snape asked me to supervise you two in an effort to keep everyone alive."

Ron got red in the face, "You're a cad, Zabini, go sit with your puppet master and leave us alone."

"I do as I am asked, but I only obey people I respect and you're not in that category and so, in that stead, why don't you two get to work?"

Harry pulled out his cauldron and set it up while Ron gathered everything from the ingredient list on the board.

Zabini slid into Ron's seat while he was away. "So, Potter, I hear you found out about the study sessions Drake and Granger have."

"Yeah," he nodded, "We did."

"How do you feel about it?"

"If it helps her study and if she is willing to put up with the git I don't care."

"Really?" he seemed more interested. "Weasley was all in a titter I hear, is that true?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "But he hates Malfoy more than I do."

"That's interesting," Zabini languidly cut up some apple root, "Why don't you hate him?"

"He's a prat, yeah, but he's never done anything very malicious so I really don't care about him at all. I don't like him, true, but I don't dislike him either...I guess he just doesn't matter to me, really."

Zabini nodded, "That's rather mature of you."

"Thanks."

"You know Draco's a nice guy when you get to know him, really rather interesting."

"Is he?" Harry shrugged, "I don't know that I would ever need to get to know him."

"Need isn't the instigator, it's want."

"What?"

"For you? You should want to know him. He can be a great ally in this war that's about to break and you of all people should realize the use of knowing the Head Death Eater's son and of having him on your side." Zabini leaned in and whispered, "Don't let this opportunity pass you because of house prejudice, use him, Potter, use him, he could save you someday."

Ron came back with an arm full of ingredients. "What's this?" he asked suspiciously.

"I was just telling your friend to stir counter-clockwise because the other way makes the potion volatile and unreliable."

"Oh," Ron frowned and set the ingredients down. Zabini vacated his seat and went to the edge of the desk.

"Do you know where to start?"

"Nope," Ron shook his head.

"Take the fly wings, measure out a teaspoon," Ron reached for the jar and the measuring devices. "A teaspoon, Weasley, the little one, here," he stopped Ron from using the tablespoon and then watching him sprinkle the insect wings in. "Good."

"What now?"

"Get your horn dust and grind it with the mortar and pestle."

"But it's already dust though; can't I just skip that step?"

"This is why you're so bad at potions, Weasley, you just try to skip steps. Grinding the dust releases its magic properties by shattering the inner crystals and forcing the pieces into chemical reactions which produce the desired effects. Without grinding the dust is useless and your potion will become a reaction between mandrake and locust eyes and that creates an explosion which would either kill you or turn you into grass."

"Oh," Ron poured the right amount in and ground it up. A little puff of gold dust appeared as he poured it in.

"Good," Blaise nodded approvingly, really the only thing that would have happened is the potion would be off in color and thickness but he wanted to be dramatic.

That's who he was.

Harry looked at Hermione and she coughed a little. "Harry, what are you doing tonight?"

"Ron and I are hitting a bludger around for a couple hours, then I'm working out with Seamus and Dean but...other than that nothing."

"We should do some work on your Transfiguration essay, I think we can do some quality work if we start early."

"Okay," he paused as Ron added in calf's milk. "Common Room around eight?"

"Great," she nodded.

Blaise was continuing to instruct Ron slowly and with surprising patience. The potion was a step or two behind everyone else's but was coming along very well. Snape stalked past them and gave Blaise a look.

"Helping out, I see," he said and Blaise grinned.

"As you asked, sir," he said.

Draco looked up from his potion, "Blaise, c'mere and stir for a moment, would you?"

Blaise left them with a short instruction, "Don't do anything; wait until I get back."

He went back to the blonde and they exchanged a few words in what sounded like either French or maybe Portuguese. Harry really had no idea what they were saying.

Blaise came back and grinned at Ron, almost evilly.

-------------

He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling.

"Mr. Malfoy?" the teacher called to him, "Am I boring you?"

He tipped his head back down and was about to answer in the affirmative when an owl flew into the class. It was a rather large, black owl with white eyes, meaning it was blind, and a sharp beak of what appeared to be steel. The creature hooted and landed just in front of him. Of course he recognized it, hard to forget.

"May I ask what is going on?" the professor asked, puffing out his chest indignantly.

Draco took the note and read it.

_D,_

_Dark Forest, my love_

_V_

A summons disguised as a love letter, how horrifically creepy. He knew what was happening. That Sunday (because the Dark Lord always held meetings on Sundays) at midnight (because it was the new moon and everything would be dark) he would be getting his Dark Mark.

Thanks, Lord Voldemort. What an awesome present.

Draco showed the note to Blaise, sighed and got a look of sympathy in return.

The owl gave a loud screech that almost made Draco wince. It took off and circled the room once before leaving. Blaise read the letter again and showed Theodore Knott.

Theo was the oldest of their friends. He had received his Dark Mark a few months ago and had been to meetings every week since. He always wore long shirts and never, ever rolled his sleeves up and always kept an eye on his left wrist in case the edge started to show. Theo was ridiculously intelligent. He was smarter than Granger though he took all different courses except Charms and Muggle Studies and he was doing better than her in both. He had short, sand colored hair and large blue-gray eyes behind black frame glasses. He was a little shorter than Blaise and had a strong, lean build. He liked to read by the lake and study languages and make mixed drinks by night for his friends. He made the best cosmos in Hogwarts and knew his way around a martini shaker like Blaise could not even imagine. For his many talents, Theo was soft spoken and did not press himself on anyone. He was reserved and did his work and took care of his friends and then moved on and never asked for praise or recognition.

Knott read it and shook his head slowly, obviously sharing their feeling of both impending doom and fear. Classes continued that day and Draco sat silently as teachers spoke and not one word was absorbed. He was thinking of some way out of it and yet found none.

Sunday came.

Midnight came.

Magic boiled under his skin and drew his own blood to form a black scar on his left arm. He suffered an unforgivable and kept his mouth shut. He stood, seemingly proud, as the older Death Eaters jeered and hexed him in a circle of perverse joy and humiliation. He was submitted to the Dark Lord and stood to his right as young purebloods from Durmstrang were inducted as well. Voldemort's proximity was terrifying but he knew that going first and standing to his right was a great honor and truly meant something because men were looking at him with interest and jealousy. Voldemort sort of fawned on him, asking his opinion and smiling creepily at him. Draco could only imagine what strange things were going to ensue.

As everyone was dismissed into the shadows the Dark Lord put a hand on Draco's still aching arm.

"Yours is a special mark," he hissed.

"I thank you, my lord," he knelt to avoid eye contact.

"I have given you, with this, a portkey directly to me whenever you wish and I should hope you use it often," he said and smiled as much as a half-snake undead creep could.

"Yes, my lord," Draco nodded, "As often as you like."

"No," he said, "I want you to want to come."

Creepy bastard, Draco thought, wants me to want him.

"Yes, my lord," he repeated and tried to sound willing. Voldemort let him go.

"You will continue to prove yourself and be rewarded in my followers, Draco. They will be jealous and try to endanger you but I need you. You will by invaluable in this little war; a rook among pawns."

"Thank-you, my lord," he bowed.

"Sleep now, Draco, you life is about to become greater than you ever imagined."

He began to leave when the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Bring Zabini and Parkinson to our next meeting. Your pretty girl will do wonders for morale." He laughed evilly and dissipated like a dream.

He crawled into bed that night and curled up, trying to make a plan to get through the next day but one never came. He did not sleep, only fazed in and out of partial consciousness, resting enough to function but not well. He climbed out of bed before everyone, dressed in clothes which he wasn't certain were clean and did not even check himself in the mirror before walking the long way to the Astronomy tower to watch the sunrise. He went through a pack of cigarettes before Blaise showed up.

"Holy balls, Draco," he tip-toed around tobacco remains, "Bad night?"

He held up his arm and the sleeve fell down just enough to expose the top eighth inch of the mark. Blaise rolled it down to see the whole thing.

"I'm so sorry."

He did not respond. He just lit another cigarette.

"Draco?"

The blonde looked at him.

"You okay?"

"So far, Blaise."

That was more ominous than anything else


	4. Chapter 4

Harry sat before Dumbledore, sipping butterbeer and eyeing the portraits.

Hermione was telling the HeadMaster about Sunday night. "The Dark Lord has asked Malfoy to bring both Parkinson and Zabini to the next meeting."

"Then they will have to go," the old man said, "And we will have to do our best to protect them when the war ends."

"Protect the Slytherin mini-killers?" Ron squawked. "Seriously?"

"Ron!" Hermione gave him a prompt smack to the arm, "Be sympathetic." She turned to Dumbledore, "Despite his apparent willingness last night, I know Malfoy hates the Dark Lord and does not want to join."

"I tend to believe you're right, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore nodded and observed a little thing on his desk. "I have summoned Severus to us and he should be here any moment. I would like to have him convince our Slytherin youths to become double agents."

"He won't go for it," Hermione said, "Malfoy does not believe in the power of the Ministry, you, Harry or the Order. He has severe doubts about our strength, unity, planning and ability and he has suggested to me in the past that the only thing the Light is willing to risk anything to protect is Harry and even then his survival is thanks mostly to dumb luck and sheer hard headedness."

Dumbledore just looked at Hermione.

"I should hope Severus can change his mind then."

"Sir, I just don't know how efficient a use of our time this is, we could…we could be planning an affront or planting one of our people in his followers instead of just hoping to convince people who are already Death Eaters. We need a plan, Head Master, not a spy."

"Are you saying these things because you actually think them or because you are scared to endanger Mr. Malfoy?"

She paused. "Both, I guess. Draco isn't like us; he can't be. Dumbledore I know you comprehend what he is to their world and I know you know he can help decide this war. I just don't want to make an enemy out of him, that's all."

"I legitimate fear, Ms. Granger, however I can promise that we will do our best to retain his good will."

Snape entered, then, looking haggard and angry.

"Are you doing well, Severus?"

He seated himself on the couch and put his head in his hands. Harry had never seen the professor act this way, this openly, in front of anyone.

"Severus?" Dumbledore questioned again.

The dark man looked up at the Head Master, "Yes, Albus, all is well."

"Do tell me what is going on?"

Snape stood and began to pace, obviously thinking.

"The Dark Lord wants Draco."

"We know that, Severus," Dumbledore said, a little confused by that obvious statement.

"No, Albus, not as a follower…as more than that," the look in his blackish eyes told Dumbledore exactly what 'more than that' meant and the Head Master reeled back.

Harry was thoroughly confused now and worried because the Head Master almost never showed surprise or shock so openly. It was a night of free emotion, perhaps or maybe the circumstances called for the two older men to worry more about the war and less about appearances. He wondered what 'more than that' was and thought back to the meeting.

_The Dark Lord, in a black chair, watched Malfoy kneel before him. The blonde was down on both knees with his arms at his side and head down, like man ready to be executed. Voldemort stood and walked to him, he held out his hand and Malfoy offered him a bare left arm. _

_Long bony fingers wrapped around the soft skin and pressed his wand tip to his wrist. A spell was murmured and Harry watched the Voldemort's eyes never left Malfoy's face. The blonde did not tense, scream, fidget and hardly breathed while the Mark sizzled from underneath his skin and onto the surface. _

_The Dark Lord did not let go of his arm, even after it was done, he held on and used his wand to tip the young heir's face up towards him. "Most impressive, young Draco, most impressive indeed."_

_The whole meeting Harry watched Voldemort and Voldemort watched Malfoy. It was not subtle and Harry heard, nearby him, two Death Eaters exchanged a few words during the circle of hexes and jeers each new recruit had to endure._

"_Our Lord seems to appreciate young Malfoy." One said._

"_Oh, greatly," the other replied, "I'm sure it won't stop with tonight either."_

_They both laughed._

Harry had thought they were talking about Malfoy as a follower though now he was beginning to see what maybe Dumbledore and Snape were talking about.

"I cannot do this, Albus," Snape was saying, "I cannot sit by and watch my godson be handed over to the beast who nearly killed him."

"Ah," Dumbledore seemed to remember something, then, "I had nearly forgotten about that."

"I haven't," Snape hissed, "What happened then is relevant now. The Dark Lord remembers what he did and he, I'm sure, has decided that because he conveniently spared Draco then, that he is owed a few 'favors' in return and I will not let that happen." His voice had grown steadily louder until he was shouting and then he turned, suddenly and began to pace again, running his hands through his hair.

"Severus…"

"No," Snape stopped him, "The Dark Lord will do whatever he wants with Draco unless…unless we…" he paused and looked at the floor, "There's nothing we can do."

Dumbledore stood, "That's not true, Severus, we could-"

"We cannot start the war, we're completely unprepared. We cannot pull Draco out, there's no where safe enough to hide him and you know Voldemort would go after Narcissa again and I…I cannot allow that. There are no options, Albus."

Hermione remembered that Snape and Mrs. Malfoy were having an affair and read into the obvious worry and protectiveness in his eyes. Maybe Snape was in love with Mrs. Malfoy…and what happened before?

"What exactly happened?" Thankfully Ron was either gutsy or stupid enough to just ask.

Dumbledore looked at them and sighed.

"Voldemort went to the Malfoy Manor just after Draco was born and told Lucius to bring the baby to the next meeting and that the magic there would transform the boy into something great; an asset for the war which, I assume, the Dark Lord thought would continue for many years. Instead of letting Lucius take him, Narcissa hid Draco with her sister, Andromeda, and went before the Dark Lord to say that the baby had died of a sickness. The Dark Lord soon found out, though, that Narcissa had lied and he nearly killed her, holding her life for ransom against Draco's. Lucius delivered Draco into the Dark Lord's hands and neither was seen for several nights, including that of the new moon. When he returned the child, Draco was extremely ill and remained very sickly all through childhood though the Dark Lord told Narcissa that he could have and should have gone further but he wanted the baby to live, thus 'sparing' her only son and indebting her to him, according to tradition, anyway. We performed hundreds of tests on Draco and never found anything except slightly high traces of raw magic but that is probably attributed to his being a pureblood."

Harry was more than a little shocked.

"This must have been just before he attacked my family," Harry said.

"Mere weeks," Dumbledore nodded. "The Dark Lord never told anyone what he had done and to this day Narcissa will not speak about what he did to her while she was in his clutches."

Snape was glaring at the floor and Hermione kept an eye on him.

"He tried to use her the same way he is going to use Draco now," Snape said and he stood again, "He gave her a Dark Mark but unlike any other, it gives her the pain her child is in, he called it a goodwill offering," Snape dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of thin parchment. "This is it, I've been trying to figure out what it does or means."

Dumbledore unfolded the sheet and viewed the black ink lines. A skull glared back at them with a basilisk crawling out. Harry could tell it was not like the snake in Snape's mark because it had the eyes of a basilisk. There were strange symbols, runes maybe, surrounding the mark like numbers on a clock face and the skull had a crack across one eye and fangs like a vampire. Harry looked at it.

"How did you get this?" Dumbledore looked at the professor.

Snape did not answer, "The Dark Lord also tried to make her a follower and when she refused he gave her all the scars she wears. He will kill her if she ever stands up to him again, of that I have no doubt, and Draco will do anything to protect her."

Hermione felt for the older man, he truly cared for Narcissa and she spoke before she could help it, "We will too."

Everyone looked at her, "Any enemy of the Dark Lord is a friend of ours and if we can help Mrs. Malfoy in any way I know we'd be all to willing to, right?"

Blaise coughed a little and poked Pansy's ribs. Draco was, not surprisingly, missing from breakfast. The snake prince was still on the tower edge recovering. He was doing better than Theodore had, though, and that was good. Theo had taken three days to leave his room and show them his mark.

Draco warned Blaise about the next meeting and Pansy's exact reaction was "This will severely limit my wardrobe." Blaise suspected she was being callous as a cover for her terror. Blaise, though, was beginning to seriously consider an escape plan such as "side with the light" or "disappear to Finland."

Draco had shot both ideas down with, "On the light side you'll still die and Finland is too cold for you, no one wants a Nubian popsicle." To which Blaise had joyously responded, "Everyone wants my Nubian popsicle."

The blonde had made his point though. It was impossible to escape now. Blaise would accept his fate and write a letter of apology to his mother that night and one to be placed in his secure file at the Ministry so that, in the event of his capture, it could be opened and the contents exposed and it could be used to save him. He'd write every month and maybe, just maybe, he would be okay when the light side won.

Pansy was already considering who and what she'd have to do to avoid being sent on missions. Prove herself incompetent as a foot soldier? Easy. Prove herself more "useful" around headquarters? Willingly. She examined her left forearm and began running a list of things she could still wear with the mark. Yes, she was being callous and devious and totally shallow and a whore but she knew she had to survive. Like all Parkinson women she was just looking for a way to make it out and alive. If that meant being a whore, so be it. If that meant playing stupid, so be it. If that meant giving up everything she cared about, so be it.

"What's going on?" Pansy asked, shifting away slightly from his poke.

"I'm going to Hogsmead during lunch to procure excess liquor to drink myself blind tonight, care to accompany me?"

"Yes please," she said and took a bite of toast only to then consider what she could and could not eat that day to counteract the calories consumed while getting drunk and how much she would have to work out to maintain her figure.

Theo sighed. Everything seemed to be on the edge of destruction.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was unconscious. He was lying flat on his stomach on the cold, damp earth of the Dark Forest. A thick root was right under his hips, insuring pain when he woke. Though, really, being thrown ten meters and skidding across the ground would do that anyways. He had severely upset the Dark Lord.

He had flinched.

Draco blinked his eyes open and frowned, only able to see black ground and slightly less black woods. His eyes took a moment to focus and make out the shapes of trees and the weak light of the stars and the voice of the Dark Lord roaring behind him. Voldemort was yelling at the rest of the gathering, seething and screaming and not at all worried about the Malfoy heir.

The Dark Lord, in a public display of affection so revolting Malfoy was surprised no one had hurled, had given the young snake a kiss. He could feel, still, the ghostly, scaled lips on his cheek and he knew, even then, that flinching would get him hurt. He had not been able to help it though.

He struggled to his feet and brushed the dust and pine needles from his clothes and hair and pulled his mask from the ground, examining it. A crack ran through one of the eyes…the masks were pretty and ivory white. They only covered the top half of the face, with almond shaped openings for eyes and rounded cheeks; they looked exactly like porcelain dolls. He pulled his on and then put his hood up and slid back to the circle, standing near the edge and trying to keep out of sight.

The Dark Lord looked right at him, out glowing red eyes and he hissed, "Little Dragon," he commanded and Draco walked forward, knowing that was his pet name. "We will continue this meeting some other time," and everyone disappeared immediately, not wanting to stick around for whatever was going to happen. Blaise and Pansy slid into the woods and ran out, nursing their new marks and tortured minds.

"Will you flinch this time?" he growled and the blonde shook his head, assuring he would not.

The Dark Lord motioned him forward and Draco walked right up to him.

His mask disappeared, "I want to see your face, pretty one," the halfbreed grinned and Draco took a deep breath. He pulled off his mask and waited.

..........................

Harry had not been allowed to go to the meeting last night. He hated being left at the castle. It sounded like an eventful night and that made him angrier. He sat in Dumbledore's office, again, and listened to the old man listen to Snape debrief them about the meeting.

"Parkinson and Zabini were inducted; they are joining a small group of young students both here and at Durmstrang who will be working to recruit others for the cause. So far it is those two and Knott who are members from Hogwarts but soon Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle will be brought in and so will Millicent Bulstrode."

"Isn't Malfoy in that little group?" Ron asked. Good thing he was paying more attention than Harry, who was currently distracted by…something.

"No," Snape shook his head, "Draco is…being put with a different group."

"What different group?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," he admitted, "But he was given a different assignment."

"What good is having a spy if he doesn't tell us what he knows?" Ron grumbled and Hermione immediately hit him.

"Stop it, Ron, if Snape isn't telling us he has a good reason, I know it."

"Sorry," he said and kept his head down the rest of the meeting.

"As I was saying," Snape continued, "We need to get Zabini and Parkinson in here immediately and try and convince them to join us and work for the Light."

"What about Knott?"

"He is…already working with me," Snape said, "He has an incredible memory so, every week, he transcribes the meetings and gives them to me so I can review for anything I missed. He's also been working to plot the Dark Lord's headquarters, a place he's only been a few times but I think he is very close. Granger, maybe you could help him with that?"

"Of course," she said, "I would love to."

"I'll set up a meeting for you two tomorrow after classes." Snape jotted that down and then turned to the clock, "I need to see if Draco is back yet and check in on my students."

"Is there anything else we can do, professor?" Harry asked suddenly, "Any way we can help?"

"Win the war, Potter, that's all we need from you." The dark man left.

He went to the lounge Blaise and Draco shared. A fire was lit and Blaise was sitting on the floor with an empty bottle of fire whiskey between him and Pansy who was curled on the couch but not asleep.

"How are you two holding up?"

Blaise looked at him and laughed, "Amazing," he said, "I've had a half a fifth of fire whiskey and I can still feel the burn from the mark and Pansy isn't making noise except to cry and…well…Draco isn't back yet."

Snape lit the torches around the room to shine light on the faces of his students.

"He isn't back?"

"Nope," Blaise reached under a sofa and pulled out a new bottle, this one of ice vodka.

"Stop it, Zabini," Snape grabbed the bottle, "Drinking yourself blind won't help this. The pain will fade by tomorrow and we will deal with Parkinson soon. How are you holding up, seriously?"

The Nubian sighed heavily, "The things I saw, Snape, the things they do to each other…I've never seen a human be so cruel to another and yet Theo says tonight was light, that it was not unusual. Am I too weak, even, to hold out against them? Will I go mad and join them? What will I become?"

"You will remain strong," he said, "You will not join them because your mother, your friends and I need you to be strong and hold out and fight for us, not against us. Blaise, we need you to join the Light."

"What?" he scrambled to his feet, "Spy?"

"I am a spy," Snape said, "And you can help us on a greater scale; by protecting the students from having to join him. We will protect you, if you need, and your mother."

Blaise thought.

His mum.

She was his Nubian half. She was a dominant woman, taller than her son, even and beautiful but terrifying. Her features were strong enough that she was sort of androgynous, most of her traits she passed on to her son. She only spoke Greek, for reasons even Blaise did not understand, and she rarely left their villa on Crete but sometimes ventured to England if necessary. Since the war had claimed her husband, Blaise's father, she hated the Anglo island and called it a rat hole. Blaise hated to see her weak but every time she landed on the earth of England she seemed to be aged twenty years; weighed down by the old war and her loss and grief. She always went to the Zabini manor and her husband's grave and wept and damned magic and refused to leave until she had her share of mourning.

Blaise hated to see her hurt and had promised the new war would not do that to her. He looked at the older snake and slowly agreed to be a spy. He just wanted her to be safe, to never have to return to bury her son.

The door opened and Draco walked in. Pansy shot up and ran to him, hugging him so hard he could not breathe. She cried into his shoulder and all he could do was hold on her too.

Dawn was rising and he desperately wanted to sleep but it would be another dreary Monday, running on empty.

Pansy pulled away and looked at him, "What happened to you?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"Draco," she whispered, "You were thrown ten meters by the sheer force of his rage…nothing is not what happened."

"No," he said, "But what did happen doesn't concern you." The brush off was vague but the look in his eyes was stern; he did not want to tell them what happened.

"We're going to be spies for the Light," Pansy said and both Blaise and Snape were surprised to hear that she was going to be a spy too, "You can work with us." Snape explained what they would be doing, how they could help and Draco shook his head.

"The Dark Lord would find out if I were working with you that fully." He said, "I'll help if I can but I'm not committing to a full spy position just yet…or ever if I can help it. Declaring sides in this will be a death sentence either way."

"In case you forgot, Draco, the ink on your arm is declaration enough for the Ministry; even if you never hurt a soul, you're branded by the Dark Lord and thus you're Azkaban material. You cannot walk away neutral now, it just cannot happen."

"I know," he sighed, "I know."

"So join us," Pansy held his hand, "Please."

She never begged. Pansy never had to say please unless in jest, she always got what she wanted and if she did not…well, she had never faced that possibility. It was a foreign word to hear her say and Draco slowly considered what would happen to her in the Dark Lord's army. He looked at Blaise, who could barely stand for having drunk so much and Snape who was ragged and pained and terrified for his little godson.

"Okay," he agreed, "I will."

She hugged him again and he could tell how she was favoring her left arm, careful to not touch the new mark to him or anything else. He felt how she was weak on her feet but insistent on seeming strong. He desperately wanted her to be okay but worried she never would be.

"You three should get some sleep and I'll see you in class."

"But-" Blaise pointed to the dawn, "There is no time to sleep, Professor."

"Then I will just see you in class," he swept away, back up the stairs and out to his office where he found a potion to make the day go by easier.

.........................

Breakfast was tedious, the Slytherins drank a lot of coffee and black tea and Pansy actually ate because she wanted to feel more awake and being starved always made her tired.

Draco was leaning back in his chair and looking around the room, nursing his sixth cup of Kona coffee, black. He spotted Potter, looking tired too and wondered what kept the pretty princess up late. Granger and Weasley were sitting close and the pauper was nearly falling asleep on her shoulder and she couldn't help but smile a little at her boyfriend. Hermione looked up and caught his eye and Draco knew she knew. He felt the inside of his cheek with tongue, feeling for the raw spot where he bit down to keep from screaming last night. How much did she know?

"Blaise?" he turned to his friend and the snake looked at him, curios as to what might be going on. "Would you mind terribly if I invited Granger to the mid-week?"

"No, not at all," Blaise said and recalculated how much alcohol he would need to buy. "It'll be heavier than usual because both Pansy and I are…tired."

"I'll warn her," he nodded.

The post came, then.

The blind monstrosity made a direct path for Draco and he straightened up, ready to receive any news the owl had. The metal beak was clamped around a thin slip of parchment and he took it without thinking. The owl let out a fearsome screech, audible over all other noise, and took off again.

_D,_

_You've made me proud_

_Continue to do so_

_V_

Draco was horrified. Blaise glanced at the note and frowned, "What'd you get a blank slip of paper for?"

"What?" Draco looked at him.

Blaise just nodded his head towards the parchment which, to Draco, had stark black lettering on it forming words to remind him of an awful night. Apparently Blaise could not see them.

"It's nothing."

"Apparently." Blaise kept sipping his tea and thinking about how much he hated the Death Eaters.

......................

**I wanted to thank everyone so much for reading and being a part of this story with me. I love writing it and I should be updating just about every week unless I forget. This is my favorite work so far and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. **


	6. Chapter 6

Draco was called the Headmaster's office just after dinner and he sat quietly and stared at the walls and tried not to think. He was in black slacks, a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a sweater-vest bearing the Slytherin crest on top. He had polished black shoes and his hair was swept sort of sideways across his forehead but not obstructing his vision. He sat in the chair and examined the contents of his schoolbag. Two notebooks, ink, quills, parchment, his Defense textbook, two packs of cigarettes, a muggle style lighter, three galleons, a pile of scrap-notes from Pansy or Blaise, Theo's notes from yesterday which he still had to copy, and a half a scone wrapped in a napkin from breakfast. He thought himself strange, just then, based on the weirdness of things in his bag. His mark was exposed and he didn't care. The Headmaster knew, for sure, so it wasn't an issue and it was a little too warm in the office anyways.

"Mr. Malfoy," the old man walked in, "I am glad you came." Malfoy looked up suddenly and dropped the lid on his book bag.

"I did not have much choice," he answered, recalling the McGonagall had more or less dragged him into the chair.

"Yes, yes," the remark was brushed off, "Severus tells me you have agreed to help us."

"As much as I am able," he clarified, "Though how much that will be is still unclear. I am a new member, unimportant to him and will not receive the same inner circle privileges as Professor Snape for a long time."

Malfoy had no idea that Harry and Ron and Hermione were crowded into the corner with the invisibility cloak over them. It had been a squeeze four years ago and now, well, now it was just uncomfortable.

"That is okay," Dumbledore said, aware that the blonde was already lying. "We just want your word that you will help us as much as possible and we will give you our word that when we win you will be given immunity from trial and you will have my word that you will not go to Azkaban."

Draco chuckled and slouched in his seat, crossing his ankles and shaking his head, "Albus, you really think you can promise me immunity? We both know what my father has done and will do, we both know what I will be forced to do and we both know what I have already done. There is no way the Ministry will look away from it, especially when Death Eaters are captured and put my family on the top of their lists to turn in in exchange for reduced sentences. You and I both know they will not be able to spin that for the Prophet, not enough to escape the public outcry we know will follow. Your promise is hollow and as much as I appreciate it…no thanks. Give me something I can actually rely on."

Harry was shocked to hear those words. He watched Dumbledore's look become dark.

"What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

"You and your savior and the entire Order swear to protect my mother no matter what," he said, very seriously. "She must be kept in the Order headquarters, wherever they are, for the duration of the war. She must be looked after and kept out of this and away from the Dark Lord. She can never be used as a bargaining chip, she can never be captured and no harm should come to her at any point."

"Such concern, Mr. Malfoy."

"She tried to save me," he was sitting straight, now and glaring something awful at the headmaster, "I owe her this much."

"Mr. Malfoy, may I ask if you know what was done to you, as a child?"

Malfoy looked away, "I do not know. I just know that my mother did whatever she could to save me and risked herself for that and now I have to protect her. I would do anything to ensure her safety; even spy for you."

"Draco," Dumbledore looked at him without apparent sympathy. "I know you know what happened to you. Tell me or I promise nothing."

Maybe Dumbledore forgot the three lions were there too.

Malfoy's look darkened, "He told me to stay close and stay safe throughout the war because as long as I was okay he would be unstoppable."

Dumbledore just gave him a look, requesting none too politely, that he continue.

"Whatever gives him his power, whatever lets him live no matter how times he is killed…he gave me part of it."

Malfoy thought it was because of the halfbreed's disgusting and not quite innocent obsession with him but Harry, Hermione, Ron and Dumbledore instantly knew that the scion of the Malfoy family had become a Horcrux. Harry was saddened immediately and he felt Hermione sigh in devastation.

"I swear that your mother will be taken care of, put in the Order's headquarters, looked after, never harmed and kept safe for the duration of the war; until we know Voldemort is dead for good." Dumbledore spoke without hesitation and Malfoy nodded.

"Now, old man, what is it you know that I don't?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's the significance of what I just told you?" Malfoy began to realize that it was something more than he originally thought. Something more serious.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. Draco was nearly seventeen, just a few weeks actually, and the blonde was significantly more mature than most. He was willing to risk his life and the old man had no emotional connection to the lad so his well being, while still important, was not a priority like Harry's was.

"You are a horcrux, a vessel for part of Voldemort's soul. As long as any one of these vessels exists he cannot die. There were seven, now only four and you are one of them. In order to defeat him…you cannot exist. You will be last to go but still, Mr. Malfoy, you are going to die for this war…whether you agree or not."

Malfoy ran his tongue over his teeth and smirked, "Then you better find the other three quickly because I don't like waiting around." He stood and left without another word or backwards glance, seemingly unfazed by his death sentence.

"Professor, no," Hermione broke cover and ran to the old wizard, "There must be another way."

Dumbledore was not in the mood to amuse his little lions so he stood and sighed heavily, "If you can find one, Ms. Granger, please tell me. I hate to lose a life unnecessarily." He left too, into a side room behind a shelf of knick-knacks.

Harry and Ron walked to Hermione and she turned to them, a glint in her eye, "We need to start researching."

"Shit," Ron said but followed her obediently out and towards the library.

Harry let them go and instead wandered towards the dungeons, shocked to discover he would have to kill a person just to have a chance at winning the war. Nagini would not be an issue but a living person? Someone he knew and had known for seven years? A person who cared for his parents, had friends, knew things, lived and breathed and loved and was loved? He did not know if he could do that. He had never killed before, not intentionally or consciously anyways, so he could not fathom killing or attempting to kill his childhood nemesis.

Harry wandered the halls for an hour, trying to reason out the day. He finally reached the stairs to the astronomy tower and began going up, each step bringing him closer to his future.

The tower was cold, exposed to the elements and still beautiful. The sun was setting over the lake and forest and Harry smiled because the simple beauty of it still seemed unmarred by war.

"What are you doing here?" a voice snarled and Harry turned to see Malfoy leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette and glaring. His eyes were hollow, rimmed by red and his mouth was drawn tight, tense.

"Sorry, I was just walking and ended up here," Harry could not fight his enemy, especially now.

"You were there," Malfoy concluded, "You heard Dumbledore tell me I have to die for this war, inevitably… I have to die."

"Yeah, I was there."

"I thought you were," Draco said and looked at the spot next to him, Harry took this as an offer to sit. He did. "Cig?"

"I don't smoke," Harry said politely but the blonde smirked.

"You should," he said, "It makes you feel like you're cheating death with every breath."

"I have enough run ins with death, I don't need to breath it too," he said and watched pale, full lips pucker to hold the end of the cigarette. They drew away, exposing flawless white teeth and a pink tongue and then a slow stream of thick white smoke. "Are you okay with dying?" Harry asked, immediately feeling stupid for it.

"Yes," Malfoy said, "I haven't got that much to live for, really."

"But-"

"I know, I know," he stopped Harry before he could start, "My mum, my dad, my godfather, my friends and studies and life, the adventures I could have and life I could lead and blah blah. I know. I just don't care. You know," he took another drag, "Everyone has something they're truly passionate about. You have your friends, protecting them and the world and the memory of your parents and all that. Granger has her studies, you and her bloke, Weasley has Granger and you, he has his huge family and quidditch. Blaise has his ambitions and his mum, Pansy has her beauty and, let's be honest for a second, she has Blaise and he has her too. They're closer than I ever was to either of them or Theo. Everyone has someone, something. Fuck, even mum has Severus and he has her. Father…father's just like me, really. Lots of little things and nothing big, nothing to really hold it all down.

"You know," Malfoy took another drag, "I have, what, six months to live if I am lucky and you postpone this for a long time? I know we've never liked each other but seriously, I don't care anymore, I just don't give a fuck."

Harry nodded. In the face of death, he supposed, petty school rivalries did not matter as much.

"It would be stupid to pretend it is still important," Harry said, "I want to be able to help you as much as I can. Anything you need or want, just ask."

"Thank-you."

"You and 'Mione seem really close these days?"

"We study together so, as close as that makes us."

"But, you talk to her about…things, right?"

"Intellectual things that Theo is too far beyond but Blaise and Pans don't care about. She and I are on the same level, I guess and I respect her, I really do."

"She thinks really highly of you too, I can tell though we try not to talk about it in front of Ron."

They both chuckled and Harry liked the sound of Malfoy's laugh.

"What are you doing on Wednesday?"

"Nothing this week, why?"

"Slytherins spend Wednesday drinking and smoking hookah in my lounge and I think it'd do you some good to live a little. I was planning to just invite Granger but I think you deserve a break too."

"That almost sounds fun," Harry said, though he was unsure of it.

"It's always a good time," He assured the other boy, "You'll like it."

Harry smiled.

The sun had finally set and Harry felt the blonde shiver in the cold.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I get cold easily," he admitted and inhaled deeply. "And it's bloody cold out here."

Harry chuckled, "Want to go inside?"

"I guess," he nodded. "May as well go sit in my lounge and comfort Pansy."

"Is she taking the initiation pretty hard?"

"No," he said, "She has a plan. She knows what she has to do to stay out of the battle and she'll do it because she's a Parkinson and their women are as devious as any Malfoy man. Believe me, the only reason Pansy is upset is Blaise, Theo and I are involved in this and she knows that in the aftermath things could be…difficult for her."

"If I am around I'll defend all four of you, my word that you helped us so that even if you do go to trial, which I hope you don't, you'll be let off or won't get a big sentence."

"Thanks, Potter," Malfoy said, "That's sweet of you."

"I am a sweet guy," he found himself joking around with his former enemy.

"Sure you are," Malfoy agreed sarcastically and stood slowly, "Time to go in, Potter. I'll see you around," he crushed his last cigarette against the wall and Harry stood quickly.

"I'll walk with you."

Malfoy gave him a look and then shrugged, "I don't care." He pulled his bag up on to his shoulder and led the way down.

"You know, Malfoy, you aren't half as unpleasant as you seem."

"Thank-you?" the blonde looked over his shoulder at Harry.

"I mean, you hold conversation really well even though we haven't been on good terms for even half an hour yet."

"Just like you, Potter, I'm not just what people assume I am." He stopped and turned, "You play a part for the papers, so do I. They're different roles, hero-boy, but mine at least is a front. I would never call someone a mudblood of my own volition, I don't actually care about Weasley's financial situation and you aren't a Gryffindor brat no matter how many times I say it."

"I-"

"Yeah, you're sorry," Malfoy nodded, "I know. Listen, this whole 'be really nice and friendly thing' is sort of out of character for me and that I know but really, I have a target on my back and another on my front so forgive me for being less than willing to fake it anymore."

"No, I understand that. It's awful to play a part, I know, I do it all the time," Harry insisted, "I guess I forget it in others. I'm naïve like that."

"Naïve is a nice way to put it," Malfoy smirked and started walking again.

"Yeah," Harry followed, "But listen, I take people at face value based on what they prove to me personally, not what their families are or what the papers say because I know as well as anyone that the Prophet lies. You-you've proved a lot in the past couple weeks and I'm really glad. I always wanted to believe in you but you never gave me a reason."

He could not see the face Malfoy was making but it was one of light confusion and heavy consideration. Said blonde was rerunning the things Harry had just admitted and wondering what exactly he meant and what this meant, in turn, for his future (short as it would be) and his present.

"I like to think that we could have been friends, Malfoy, if things had gone differently."

"We're friends now," he allowed, "Well, acquaintances really."

"No," Harry argued, "Friends. Maybe not best friends or close ones but can you really afford to only go half-way on this?"

Malfoy turned to him and looked straight into his eyes. Malfoy was naturally a little bit shorter than Harry and now he was a step or two lower than the lion so it was an upward look. Harry stared back, a little confused.

"No, I guess I can't." the blonde admitted.

"How can you be so flippant about death? Aren't you scared?" Harry looked him right in the eye, stared directly into the pretty silver eyes and got the answer he was looking for.

"I'm terrified," Malfoy said, "But I'm playing my character, Potter. I'm putting on a brave front for my best friends, my godfather, my mother and father and even you. If I let people know how scared I am it'd be…chaos."

"But you can't just hide it away and never talk to anyone," Harry said, "I know, I try it too. I never tell anyone how I feel because I think so many people are relying on me that it'd all go to hell if I broke or needed help even once. Parkinson and Zabini and Knott are there for you, Snape and your parents too, Malfoy, they love you and they won't be mad at you for needing help. You can't just hide."

"You have no idea, Potter."

"Then tell me."

"You? I don't even trust the boy I grew up with enough to tell him about this, why would I trust you?"

"Because I'm not reliant on you," Harry said, thinking as he spoke. "If you're scared or upset or whatever…I don't rely on you for support or strength so…I won't be hurt or lose faith in you."

Malfoy just looked at him.

"You sound like a raving lunatic," he said after a moment.

"I get that a lot," Harry sighed and looked at the walls around him.

"But you have a good point," he admitted and Harry looked back at him. He had his arms crossed across his chest. The black edge of the mark was visible and Harry couldn't help but stare at it. Malfoy knew where he was looking.

"Have you ever seen one up close?" he asked and Harry looked at him again.

"No, not really."

Malfoy unfolded his arms and held out the left one, "Want to?"

Harry took a step down and held the arm in front of him. He held the on to Draco's wrist and looked close at the snake and skull.

"Did it hurt?" he asked.

"Not nearly as bad as the torture curse but yeah, it hurt a lot."

"They used that on you?"

Malfoy seemed a little surprised that Harry hadn't known that. "Of course he did, how else can you test a follower?"

"I don't know," Harry responded, "I just never would have thought he'd…it's so sick."

"I know," Malfoy nodded and Harry did not seem him shudder a little too, "But he can do worse."

Harry did look at him then and he swallowed. "What does he do to you? When he dismisses the following but holds you back? Snape makes us leave with everyone else, we can't look back and we have to move, fast. He says it is so Voldemort won't sense us but…"

Malfoy just looked at him, expressionless except for a tension in his jaw and mouth. "Don't make me answer that."

Harry let go of his arm and stepped back. "No, no, I'm sorry, you don't have to. I'm sorry."

"Calm down, Potter," Malfoy stepped forward and put a hand on Harry's arm to steady him, "Don't worry about it."

"No, I shouldn't have asked that."

"True," Malfoy agreed, "But seriously, don't worry." The blonde let go and began walking down the stairs again and Harry followed quietly. Of course he knew that something was going on with Voldemort and the blonde but he wasn't sure how far or what exactly. A line was crossed but what line exactly was still unclear.

They hit the bottom of the stairs and the snake rolled his sleeves down and buttoned his cuffs. "I'll see you in class, Potter."

"Sure, see you around Malfoy."

"Have a good night," the blonde strolled away into the shadows towards the dungeons.

Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room and found Hermione curled up in Ron's arms in an empty room lit barely by a dying fire. They both looked up when he came in.

"How're you doing, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"Okay," he said, "I talked to Malfoy."

"Is he okay?" Hermione sat up and he could tell she had been crying.

"As well as can be expected," Harry took the seat next to her, "He's going to spend some time with Zabini, Knott and Parkinson right now."

"That's where he is needed," she agreed and sniffled, "It's awful, Harry. How could the Dark Lord do that to him? He's only sixteen and…he was a baby when Voldemort did this. How can Dumbledore expect Draco to just give up his life for a cause he never believed in to begin with? How is this fair?"

"It isn't fair at all," Harry agreed. "Voldemort doesn't care who he hurts or what he has to do as long as he gets the power he is after. I think Dumbledore is focused on saving as many as he can and isn't thinking about Draco with the respect or consideration he deserves."

Hermione leaned against Ron again and the redhead held her close, trying to be a comfort but not knowing what to say. Hermione sniffled again and rested her head on his shoulder, holding his hand and thinking about him.

Ron had become rather handsome in the past year. He'd lost all his baby fat and his hair was cut short, like peach fuzz and she loved to run her hands over it, feeling the strange texture. He had a strong jaw and cheekbones under big, bright blue eyes that she loved. He had big hands too, and long fingers with short nails and calluses from quidditch and gardening at the Burrow. He was quite tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a long neck and all of it covered in tiny little freckles that she loved. She smiled a little when she thought of him.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry found himself climbing to the top of the tower, again. He did not necessarily wish Malfoy was there but he did secretly hope. He opened the door and saw the blonde sitting against the wall again. This time he wore a thick cloak with a fur lining and he had a heavy tome in his lap, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at his side.

"Evening Potter."

"Hi Malfoy," he sat down by the blonde and received a slow look before a nod. "What?"

"Nothing," he said and looked at the lake. "I've always loved the lake."

"Really?"

He nodded, "It's so vast and…it's an ever changing mystery. The castle feels confining, no matter how massive it is or how much it changes, I always feel trapped here. The lake is uncharted and full of things no one could imagine and I want to see them, someday. I bet you had a great time down there."

"I was a little preoccupied with finding Ron and helping Krum and Fleur to pay much attention to the scenery."

"That's right," he nodded slowly this time, "You were preoccupied, weren't you? What species of merepeople was it?"

"I don't know."

"Did they have gills?" Malfoy asked, sounding a little amused.

"Uhm, yeah, they did," he answered, nervous and embarrassed for not knowing the species.

"Hmm, that makes sense."

"Isn't that information in Hogwarts, A History?"

"The book focuses on the castle and founders and teachers. It has a short chapter on the lake and forest and general surroundings but it just mentions the squid, centaurs and the trolls to the North a few kilometers."

"There are trolls?"

"You're not very bright," Malfoy said and laughed, "But yes, there are trolls. Haven't you read it?"

"No, Hermione has…and does…every year."

"Sounds like her. She should just get a self-editing copy."

"Those are hard to find, unreliable and expensive," he said, "It's easier to just check out the new edition whenever it is published, according to 'Mione."

"I suppose."

"Do you have a self-editing?" Harry could feel Malfoy getting bored with him and this. He wanted to change the subject but was scared.

"There is one at the manor, yes."

"Cool."

"Ask what you really want to ask, Potter." The lion was briefly embarrassed at having been found out but he asked anyway.

"Do you like Hermione?"

"What?" he seemed horrified at the suggestion.

"I know, I know but," he pulled out the notebook, "I found this and I read it, trying to figure out whose it was and then I saw the notes you exchanged with Blaise about you maybe having your eye on someone and you said it was a Gryffindor because you circled the lion and you and Hermione spend so much together I just thought…maybe it was her." He said everything in one breath, no time for Malfoy to interrupt.

The blonde took the notebook and looked through, "No Potter, it isn't Hermione that I have my eye on, not at all. I like her as a person and as a fellow intellectual but nothing more, I promise. I'm not mad, either, about my notebook. It's nice, isn't it?

"What? Yeah, it is. You're a good artist, Malfoy. Your sketches are really cool," he said with a slight indication to the book.

"Thanks," he smiled. "And thank-you for returning it, I was beginning to think you'd never fess up to taking it."

"You knew I had it?"

"I saw it in your school bag one day, I assumed you had picked it up from that study session you and Weasley barged in on. I must have left it. You were just waiting for the right time to return it, yeah?"

"Yup," _and reading every word you wrote in it…twice. _He added in his head, smiling.

Malfoy nodded again and paused. "What are you going to do after you win the war?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to become an auror?"

"No," he said, sounding more sure than he really was. "I imagine that after the final battle I will have had more than enough fighting for my lifetime and I'll just want to…live."

"What do you mean?"

"Travel, relax, be a guy and a kid, I guess. I want to…live normally, the way you do, I guess."

"I'm not normal, you know."

"Yeah…"

"Normal kids don't spend the summer in Spain or France or Christmas break alone in Vienna or Easter in Greece…alone or spend every weekend getting so drunk they don't remember their own name. They don't smoke cigarettes that cost two galleons a pack or have clothes designed and tailored to them. Normal kids have off days, days to themselves and they're not normally betrothed to their best friend or marked by a mad man. Normal kids don't spend Sunday nights in a forest with sixty guys in black making plans to kill people. Face it, Potter, you don't want to be like me."

"No, but you have fun. You drink and smoke and have relationships like a normal kid and I can't because I'm the good guy. I'm flawless Prince Potter of the Light and his highness of all that is good and it just pisses me off after awhile."

"Well, at least you're not bitter about it," the blonde said with a little sarcasm.

Harry laughed, "Yeah, can't imagine the Boy Hero being imperfect."

"You don't have to be Lapdog Potter if you don't want to be. I am working for you guys so I shouldn't encourage you to do this but seriously, take a day off."

Malfoy woke up, looked around and yawned. He pulled a glass of water off his nightstand and sipped it, trying to ease the dry, stale taste in his mouth. Ron was passed out on the foot of his bed and he saw Potter lying on the floor. He rolled out of bed and pulled clothes from the antique bureau Blaise bought him in Milan.

"Morning boys," he woke them after he changed.

Ron stayed asleep but Harry started awake, "What?" He couldn't see because his glasses were on the counter by an empty bottle of pomegranate martini mixer. He recognized that he was not where he normally woke up and that he could only taste stale smoke and beer. He tried to expel the taste briefly but stopped because Malfoy started laughing.

"You look ridiculous, Potter."

"Thanks Malfoy but having you say things makes my head hurt," Harry cradled his head.

"That'll happen," Malfoy opened part of the wall and searched the row of clearly marked vials. "Here, it's a hangover reducer."

"Thanks," Harry stood and stumbled over, taking the vial and downing it, "Can you help me find my glasses?"

"Sure," Draco carefully led the hero down the narrow stairs into the lounge. He quickly scanned the room and spotted the glasses instantly, along with Pansy's rack, Blaise's bare chest, Theo's legs sticking out from the door up to Blaise's room, Crabbe and Goyle sitting in a corner with an empty bottle of whiskey between them, Millicent in front of the fire and more alcohol than usually was present at the Mid-Week. He spotted the hookah, glowing silver, and the camera lying on the ground, probably full of embarrassing photos from last night. "Here they are," he picked up the thick black frames and handed them to the Boy-Wonder.

"Thanks again, Malfoy," he put them on and rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to dispel the confetti left there by Pansy's "adventure."

"No problem Potter."

"You know, minus the splitting headache, terror of what I may have done last night and the taste in my mouth it was a really great experience…so…thank-you…for the fourth time, I guess."

"Minus the headache, embarrassment and taste it's not a party."

"I guess," he leaned against the counter of the kitchenette, "Can we make breakfast?"

"Yes, we can but we try not to because Blaise always sets something on fire."

"I'm a better cook than that," Harry walked around and examined the fridge, it was empty. "You don't have food though."

"It's magic, Potter, just tell it what you want."

"Okay," Harry looked back into the white void, "Eggs, milk, bacon, bread and beans…also orange juice and coffee."

"Coffee you get from the cupboard, not the fridge," Draco said and got comfortable on a stool behind the counter.

"Sorry," he pulled all the food from inside the fridge and set about making breakfast.

"You had fun though?" Draco asked and eyed a bottle of firewhiskey with about a shot left.

"Of course I did," Harry smiled and scratched his shoulder, "It was a fun night, I've never smoked a hookah before."

"A great social tool, I think," Malfoy took a bottle and held it for a moment, "You will be coming back for Wednesdays from now on, right?"

"If you guys want me," he said, "Where's Hermione?"

"Oh," Draco looked around, "Probably up in Blaise's room."

"Really?" Harry glanced around for Blaise and when he saw the Persian he relaxed a little.

"What? You thought Granger and Blaise might have shagged? She's so in love with Weasley that'd never happen."

"You really think she loves Ron?"

"Are you stupid?" Malfoy just looked at him. "Just watch them, ever, and you can tell they're…just…" he searched out the right phrase, "Absolutely in love."

"Yeah," Harry scrambled the eggs, "I guess they are."

"Have you not noticed?" Malfoy leaned over, pulled some frying bacon off the pan and blowing on it until it cooled. "If you pay any attention to the way he looks at her or the way she smiles when he is around it is absolutely obvious."

"I guess I just haven't noticed."

"Why? How?"

"Distracted, probably, and I think they've always been that way. Ever since First Year but Ron's a bit thickheaded so he never acted on it. It just seems so normal to me, I don't know, like it has always been there."

"That's adorable," He said and crunched through his bacon. "I secretly think Blaise and Pansy are in love with each other. Neither is gutsy enough to do anything but Pansy sleeps around, I think, because she wants him to want her. He stays away because he is considerate and scared, though so that's a conundrum. It'll work out eventually though."

"That's almost kind of adorable," Harry smacked the pale hand away as it tried to steal another slice of bacon.

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed and stood, "Probably time to wake the gang. Let's start with Weasley because I hear he is a pain."

Harry agreed and followed the blonde upstairs, charming the done food to stay warm.

Ten minutes of trying to wake Ron finally came to fruition. He woke and slowly began searching out clothes and water and a loo in which to expel his innards. Ron was one of the most affected by hangovers.

"Your shirt is inside out," Malfoy said and Ron paused, looked down at himself and groaned.

"Damn," he took it off while the blonde just rolled his eyes.

"This is your best friend, Potter, think about it."

"Your best friend is still passed out on the floor, Malfoy, so I wouldn't talk if I were you."

"Blaise is a perfectly respectable boy…"

They all walked downstairs slowly, talking as they went. Draco woke his Persian accomplice and the boy sat up, looking around blearily.

"Bugger, Drake, what happened?"

"You passed out around four."

"That early?" he examined his wristwatch, "Blood hell, I feel awful."

"Not surprising," Malfoy handed him a vial of red liquid. "Drink up, you useless whore."

Blaise opened it and downed it like a shot. "What was it?" he asked as an afterthought.

"A detoxifier that I brewed you, I am worried about the ratio of alcohol to actual blood in your veins."

"Thank-you," he stood and shook out his hair, "Where is Pansy?"

"She just went up to shower," Hermione said as she walked downstairs. Malfoy loaded a plate with breakfast and passed it off to his friend. Blaise seated himself and began shoveling food into his unusually large mouth.

"Morning Granger," Malfoy made her a plate.

"Thank-you, Draco," she took it and a place on the loveseat, the other half of which Ron quickly claimed. "Morning Ron."

"Hi," he grinned, "Did you have fun last night?"

"I really did," she ate some toast, "It was a great experience."

Malfoy nodded, poking his eggs with vague interest.

Theo was up now and cleaning the cans and bottles up and opening windows to try and air out the smoke and alcohol smell of the room.

"We should get to class soon, shouldn't we?" Hermione asked.

"We have a half hour," Blaise said, "Since we don't have to go to breakfast and we have potions first. It's a two minute walk from here."

"Convenient."

"That's why Wednesday is party day," he said and motioned Malfoy over using his head, "Drake, can I get a mimosa?"

"Sure," he opened a cabinet and Harry saw it was full of bottles of alcohol. Malfoy opened a bottle of champagne, expertly mind you, and mixed it with orange juice, garnishing the drink with a sprig of mint.

"Thanks," the Persian took it and drank, seeming to relax a little into his seat, "Want one, anyone?"

Harry could see Malfoy making himself one and wondered if it was healthy.

Pansy walked in and Blaise whistled at her, a cat call really, but she winked at him all the same.

"I always look my best with a hangover," she commented and took his drink, sipping it and smiling. "I need a smoke so I'll see you guys in class."

"No breakfast, Parkinson?" Ron asked and she smiled a little awkwardly.

"No thank, Weasley, I'm not hungry." She walked out, blowing kisses to her boys and grabbing her bag from by the door.

"She doesn't eat after she drinks," Malfoy informed them, "It is in order to balance out the calories of alcohol. She won't eat until dinner tonight and then it will just be celery and zucchini hash."

Blaise made a face.

"That's not healthy at all," Hermione said, looking concerned.

"That's Pansy Parkinson," Blaise said and coughed suddenly, "Excuse me," he left the room quickly, abandoning his breakfast on the table.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, watching him go.

"Dunno," Draco shrugged, "Probably getting the flu."

Lie. Big, fat, obvious lie. Draco knew what was wrong with Blaise but the Gryffindors didn't deserve to know just yet. Harry could tell it was a lit though he didn't point it out.

"So," Draco continued, "Hermione, I know Blaise and Pansy want to take you shopping Saturday. Are you up for it?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Great," he nodded and glanced with almost worry at the stairs to Blaise's room.

When he coughed now he could not stop. Fits would control him for five minutes or more, often accompanied by blood or dizziness. Sometimes he stopped breathing all together, not for very long, maybe thirty seconds, but still a terrifying half-minute. They were all scared but only Draco and Pansy knew about it. The blonde was in the midst of trying to convince his friend to go to see a medi-wizard and have it taken care of. So far Blaise was insistent that it was nothing.

Harry was paying attention to the Dark Mark on Draco's arm. He wasn't wearing his uniform shirt just yet, so far only a white undershirt, his slacks and shoes. Harry was obsessed with Draco's Mark, the rich black against the pale skin and the preexisting freckle lying innocently near the snake's head. He was obsessed with the pale blue vein running through the centre of the Mark, with the way Malfoy moved when it was exposed.

He wanted to know everything about the blonde, suddenly. He worried it was Voldemort's perversion seeping into him, that maybe the mental connection was stronger than they originally thought.

"I am going to get ready," the blonde set down his fork, having eaten very little, and began to go upstairs, "Feel free to do what you want."

He went upstairs and Harry watched him go, "I left my, uhm, wand up there. I'll be right back," he excused himself and followed.

"When I said 'do you what you want' I didn't mean 'follow me into my bedroom' Potter." He said as he pulled on a button-down shirt.

"I want to talk."

"What about?" The blonde asked, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt.

"You."

"What about me?" he asked, adjusting his hair in the mirror.

"You lied."

"And?"

"You lied to me."

"So?"

"I don't like it."

"Okay."

"Malfoy," Harry snapped, growing annoyed, "You're working for the Light, we…or at least I deserve to know what's going on."

"No. This has nothing to do with you or the war or the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. Blaise is just fine so don't worry."

"I don't believe you at all," Harry said, becoming just a little angry. "Something is wrong. Just tell me. This past week we've gotten really close so…why don't you trust me?"

"The same reason everyone else trusts you so fully: you are the golden boy of Hogwarts and England. You're the belle of the ball, Potter, and whatever I tell you, you might leverage with Dumbledore so he will tell you the truth for once, or at least what he passes off as the truth."

"You really think I'd do that to you?"

"If it meant he'd answer some of your questions, yes, I do. I think you would. You are desperate to know and as long as he doesn't tell you everything, he has control of you. I know you wouldn't mean to but you'd trade us out for understanding in an instant. We're snakes Potter, we don't mean that much to you."

Harry took a few quick steps over to him, grabbed his wrists and spoke quietly.

"You do."

Draco just looked up at him.

"Harry continued.

"You're dying for this war, you are ready to do what I have always been and will always be scared of. Everything you have said to me this past week, since you became a spy, has stayed with me. I haven't told anyone anything, not Dumbledore or Hermione or even Ron. Malfoy…Draco, you are my priority."

"Why?"

"Because," he tried to find the words, "I need you."

The look in the iron eyes was one of confusion, distrust and curiosity.

Harry realized what he said and tried to backtrack, "Uhm, I mean, I need you in order to win the war. I need _you_ so that _I_ can win, you know, the war…win the war not so-I mean, well, yeah…just the war, that's all, win the war." He let go and stepped back as he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze.

The blonde hummed and adjusted his sleeves, smoothing them out, he pulled on a sweater to delay speaking for a half moment. It was a slightly large sweater, probably Blaise's.

"Okay," he said finally, "I'll tell you. Only because you asked so nicely though."

Harry smiled. "Thank-you. I just want you to trust me."

"I do," he answered immediately, "Just…too much I think. Maybe way too much and that's what worries me."

"No," Harry sat on the edge of his bed, "No, I want you to trust me. I need you to."

Malfoy pulled on a peacoat and began to fill his leather satchel with his supplies. "I am sorry Potter, I just…I don't usually trust easily and the ease with which I am connecting with you is terrifying and weird, so..I don't know. I just don't know."

"Why are you so hesistant to be friends with me? To trust me?"

"Because I don't know you and I am scared."

"You don't have time to be scared, Draco," Harry said and he felt bad about it but it was true. There was no time to fear.

Malfoy looked at him for a half second, "You're right."

"I know," Harry stood and put his large hands on Malfoy's narrow shoulders, "When you want to talk to me, I'll listen."

Malfoy sighed just a little and buttoned his coat, Harry let his arms fall away.

"I'll see you tonight, Potter. Come back here and we can talk, I'll send Blaise to stay with Pansy for the night. There is a lot to talk about."

"Okay," Harry agreed, "I'd love to."

Malfoy walked past him and down the stairs, leaving Harry alone in the room. He ran a hand over the smooth walls and stopped when he saw a photo on the bureau; a family portrait of the Malfoys. Draco really did look like his mother, too pretty for words


	8. Chapter 8

"Where are you going?" Hermione looked up from her homework. Harry had spent a half hour trying to look acceptable. He wore a black sweater and the only jeans he owned that fit (sort of) and he had combed his hair and pushed the frock of bangs to one side and made them look decent. He wore his comfortable trainers and his leather watch and glasses but still, he tried very hard to look put-together and nice.

"Uhm, out."

"Bullshit," Ron coughed obviously and Harry shot him a glare. Ron looked up and snickered.

Hermione gave him a look, showing she had already known he was lying before Ron pointed it out.

"I am going to see Malfoy," he relented. "I'll be back by morning."

"Harry," she stood, "We barely slept at all last night and yes, it was fun but not two nights in a row, really.

"No, we aren't going to smoke or drink or anything, Merlin, Hermione. We're just talking, he has some ideas for... things."

"Then we'll come with you," she moved as if to go with him.

"No!" he stopped her, "Please, Hermione, I need to do this on my own. I want to get to know him and learn to trust him like you do. Please, let me do this."

She seemed pleased with that and kissed his cheek, "Thank-you Harry, it's just wonderful that you are putting in all this effort. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he smiled at her and left, waving Ron good-bye too.

Part way down the hall he began to consider the implications of out right lying to his friends and if that indicated anything about his feelings for Malfoy. Then he sincerely hoped not.

The rooms were clean and smelling of warm vanilla. Malfoy was in the arm chair, reading a book and wearing what appeared to be pajamas. He was under a blanket, next to the fire, drinking cocoa and playing music Harry vaguely recognized as an American muggle band.

"Hi," he said and slipped in, having gone through Slytherin both unnoticed and unharassed. He sat down and watched the blonde finish the sentence he was reading then look up.

"Hi," he blinked and pushed some white hair from his eyes. "How was your day?"

"Great," he smiled and poured himself a mug of hot water and slowly turned it into citrus tea.

"You seemed to have a good day in Potions," he commented.

"Yeah, Blaise has been tutoring me. Well, Ron and me, actually so that's made the class go a lot better."

"That's right," Malfoy nodded. "That's a talent I wouldn't have attributed to him."

"Tutoring? Yeah, me either." Harry paused, "So what's wrong with him?"

"Blaise? Oh, he's started having really bad coughing fits and sometimes he coughs up blood or stops breathing. I am fairly certain it's advanced lung cancer but he won't go into a MediWizard to have it checked out and taken care of."

"Oh Merlin, that's awful," Harry leaned forward.

"Surprise to find out cancer is fairly common in purebloods. It has to do with magic already mutating cells. It is easy for them to become cancerous because of the constant interaction with magic and dangerous substances used in potionry and the like. It's not a huge deal because it is usually caught and always easy to take care of, I mean, we have magic so there's no radiation therapy or whatever. Unfortunately Blaise is a stubborn pig and it is getting to the point where I don't know how easy it will be to get rid of. I have been brewing potions that should help and sneaking them to him when he doesn't know but I'm not sure how much it helps."

"That must be really hard for you," Harry watched the blonde.

"Yes, it is. He's in constant pain and he can't really go running anymore and it was one of the things he liked best about the grounds here. He could run forever in any direction and it'd be fine but now, well, now he is winded going up stairs and it hurts to breathe particularly cold air and his coughing fits last for five minutes or more."

Harry shook his head, "You should really get him to see a Mediwizard soon, that sounds really bad."

"It is worst to have to talk to Pansy about it. She starts saying 'if he's still around for' and 'if he makes it until' and things like that. She starts talking about him in the temporary, like he won't last."

Harry frowned, "Pansy's a character."

"She's as normal as a pureblood girl can be, I think."

"Yeah? I can't imagine how weird the rest of them are."

"Pansy is very…determined, I guess, to survive and no matter how battered or bruised she is on the other side she was stand up and say 'look at me, I am alive' and that's just who she is. It's not ruthlessness really, it's her instinct. All purebloods are raised to carry on the line. Above all else we carry on the name. It's just how things are, I guess. Pansy is willing to sacrifice anything to do her duty as a pureblood and especially as a Parkinson woman."

"What is so special about Parkinson women?" he asked.

"They are known for a total dedication to survival. Pansy will do whoever and whatever it takes to come out alive."

"Wow," he lifted his brows, "I knew she was focused but…wow, I mean, is it an attribute or a flaw?"

"Both, in a lot of ways," Draco answered. "At least it means she is refusing to let Blaise alone about his condition."

"Why won't he see a MediWizard?"

"He doesn't want his mother to worry," he explained. "Blaise's father was killed in the First Dark Lord's War, a tragedy for all purebloods because Lord Zabini was extremely well respected. They are a great family and it was especially awful for his mum because, well, she had been in love with Lord Zabini since their First Year here together. She lives in Italy now because even being in England is really hard for her, everywhere is a reminder of her husband and so she just doesn't come here. She and Blaise are extremely close, more so than most parents and children in pureblood society. Just like Pansy will do anything to survive, Blaise will do anything to protect her. He thinks that that includes refusing medical treatment so she won't be upset or worry about him."

"Won't she be more upset if he dies?"

"You would think Blaise would be prone to the same logic but…it's Blaise so it is always unclear just what level he is working on."

"He's a smart guy though," Harry commented.

"You would think that," the blonde stood and set his book aside, wrapping the blanket around himself tightly, trying to stay warm.

"Are you cold?" Harry asked.

"Yes, quite."

"I am closer to the fire," Harry offered and the blonde stepped over, curling up on the other half of the love seat. It was marginally warmer, he admitted. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure," Draco scooted over so he could examine his flavor options. "The raspberry would be good."

"Raspberry tea?" Harry pulled out the packet and observed it, "Yuck."

"Shut up," he joked, "I love weird tea flavors."

"Obviously," Harry poured the water and set the tea bag in, "Honey?"

"Yes but let it steep for a moment, I like it strong."

"You like things that are strong and fruity?"

"And hot," Draco said, knowing just what Harry meant. The snake showed him a smile and Harry was taken by it. It was symmetrical and exposed his straight, white teeth and made his cheeks dimple and his eyes crinkle just a little.

Harry chuckled. Draco liked his smile. Harry always laughed very honestly. It was charming. Draco looked away quickly so he wouldn't be caught.

Harry watched him look away and then slowly look back, still smiling vaguely.

They just sat for a moment. Staring at one another.

Harry James Potter leaned in, closed his eyes and kissed Draco Lucius Malfoy. He did not think of the consequences, the reaction, or the future. He did not dwell on the harsh criticism, the insults or the past.

He just kissed.

And it was amazing.

Harry didn't know if fireworks actually went off when you kissed someone but he did know he felt a tingle in every extremity of his body. Each nerve jittered from side to side, crashing into all the others and making them shake more. He felt each finger in an infinitely deeper way and he felt as if each atom of him was attracted to each atom of Draco.

The blonde leaned forward, going with each action as it happened. His hand went up, slid around Harry's neck, and held him in place. His spine felt…fuzzy. That was the worst possible word but it was all that popped up in his clouded mind. Apparently all that time studying vocabulary and language was for nothing if it failed him in clutch situations like this.

Harry slowly detached his lips and held still, centimeters from Draco and whispered, "Wow."

Obviously Harry's vocabulary failed him too. Draco no longer felt stupid.

"Wow," he agreed and felt dumb again. He could not have said something witty or charming? He had to repeat Golden Boy's utterance?

Harry could not think of words to follow up so he kissed Draco again. It was not unwelcome. Nor was the first one, or any of the many, many kisses that followed. They lay on the couch all night, curled against the cold and exchanged less-than-eloquent words.

In the morning Harry's painstakingly chosen outfit was wrinkled or off. That is to say, he had taken off his sweater (Draco was now wearing it) and he had also removed his shoes and socks and his glasses. Nothing scandalous. Harry Potter did not shag on the first… talk over tea, or the third private encounter, or ever. Harry Potter did not shag. Period.

Yet.

Harry Potter did not shag yet. Period.

That was the truth.

..............

They both woke up at the same time. They looked at each other and chuckled, sort of. Draco awkwardly untangled himself from Harry and stood. "Do you want some breakfast?"

He did not mention the night prior.

"Sure, thanks," Harry watched the blonde slowly make waffles and strawberry topping and he smiled when the plate was handed to him. "I didn't know you could cook," he said, "I know you don't let Blaise near the kitchen but…"

"It's just one of the many secret talents I have," he said and snuggled into the couch next to Harry, "This and herbology."

"Seriously? You and Neville have something in common," Harry laughed.

"No, no we don't."

"Yes, yes you do."

"No, Longbottom is in it for the plants and the nature. I study herbology because I don't trust anyone else to care for my potions ingredients."

"Really? I knew you were good but I didn't think you were…grow-your-own-ingredients-good."

"Well I am." He said, "I am the best potioner in our year."

"Wow," he smiled, "Brew me something some time."

"That's your pick-up line?"

"What?" Harry shook his head, embarrassed, "No, no, that wasn't a pick-up line!"

"Yeah? It wasn't?"

"No, not at all."

"Liar," Draco smirked, "You totally just tried to use that as a pick-up line."

"Okay, I did," Harry admitted and laughed, "Still, can we still hang out soon?"

"Of course," Draco agreed and leaned over and kissed him on the lips, "We should go to the Greece-Finland game together."

"When is that?"

"Monday night."

"We have school though and where is it? How would we get there?"

"It's our seventh year, Harry. You're seventeen and we can do whatever we want. The game is in London so it isn't far and my family has box seats to all the regular season Quidditch games."

"Really? We could just Floo to London for a few hours, watch a professional Quidditch game and come back in time for class the next morning?"

"Of course," Draco smiled, "Remember the Poland-Morocco game last week?"

"Yes…"

"Blaise and I went and got wasted with the Polish team afterwards."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Wow," Harry thought it over for a moment, "Okay, yeah, let's do it."

He was surprisingly unpassionate about both teams. Finland had shoddy defense and he thought the Greek Keeper was a sloppy troll. Somehow, though, the thought of that particular game excited him so much he could not wait for Monday. Every class was a hassle, each meal an excuse to watch for a glance or smirk, every day a wait to sneak into the Slytherin dorms, down into Room 7 and then into the warm, newly decorated cave of Draco. They talked.

Usually it was about things without consequence: favorite music and teams, sometimes about other people in their year. It turned out most of the drama occurred at parties which Harry had no idea even happened. Slytherin parties were, apparently, the place to 'make up, make out, fight it out and fuck' and thus Draco knew everything and Harry was left to learn so scandalous truths about his House mates.

Harry liked how comfortable Draco was with him. The way they stretched out on the bed, toes touching and lay facing each other, under the covers. Slowly, during their talks and during the night Draco would get closer until he was curled up against Harry's left side and their fingers interwove and exchanged a few kisses.

Harry found himself totally happy with the tiny displays of affection and discrete looks during meals and classes. The shared smirks and inside jokes, the little mark on Draco's neck where Harry kissed him, and every day seemed to remind them of each other.

December was starting and Harry had taken to walking around the lake with Draco during lunch instead of eating.

"It's so beautiful out here," Draco commented with each passing day. He admired the heaps of snow around the shore, the slivers of ice floating on the surface and the lazy ripples as waves pushed through the icy water. It was beautiful. Harry liked to watch Draco instead though.

"You really like the lake, yeah?"

"Of course I do, it's the most beautiful part of the school," he said and smiled.

Harry shrugged, "I disagree."

"Oh do you?"

"Yes," Harry nodded firmly and stopped walking. Draco stopped too because Harry was holding his hand. "You're the most beautiful part."

Draco just looked at him. Then smiled.

"You're sweet." He said and stepped back over to the other boy. "Come on," he tugged lightly on Harry's arm. "Let's go inside."

Harry quietly followed.

"Hmm," eyes watched them go, "Who would have thought?"

They shrank away into the woods, sliding into shadows and running towards a dilapidated house built into a hill. It was a crumbling wood building with broken windows and the stairs to the porch were rotted away. None of the rooms were lit except the farthest bedroom. A dim orange glow was cast by the candles. A large couch rested under the window, in the line of the incredibly cold wind.

"What is it, Fenrir?" The Dark Lord asked from his reclined position. He was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet and seemed relaxed.

"You'll be most displeased with this news, my Lord," he knelt.

"What is it?" he frowned and sat up straighter.

"I saw your boy, the Malfoy heir," he said, "With the enemy."

"He attends school with the enemy, Greyback, be more specific." His voice was acid.

"Potter, my Lord, he and Potter were walking together…alone."

Voldemort stood and snarled, "What?"

"They were walking around the lake, Dark Lord…and holding hands."

He threw the paper down and raged, "If you are lying, mut, I will kill you."

"No, my Lord, I would never."

"Stand, beast, I want you to go on a hunt."

Fenrir did and smiled when he heard his target.

"As you command, my Lord."

Voldemort seated himself again. "The boy will learn."

......................

**Okay, that's it for Chapter 8. I want to thank all the reviewers for sticking with and reading this story. I am really enjoying it and I love where it's going. It won't be too long but it should be good. I have the ending written and am just working on some in-between type stuff.**

**Thanks again!**

**You're all wonderful!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

Shadows were cast over the forest. No moon. The Dark Lord stood at the head of the group, glaring into the group. He sensed Draco, standing with the Parkinson girl and the other 2 snake boys. He did not care about those two.

"Followers," he spoke and they listened. "There is one in our midst who is shaky, whose belief must be reaffirmed."

They all shifted, eager to found out who it was.

"He is going to be shown how truly powerful we are."

Draco immediately knew the Dark Lord was talking to him. He felt his stomach tighten and a horrible sense of dread build up and flow through him.

He turned his head as the crowd parted. Fenrir walked through, dragging a carcass behind him. Ropes bound the body and dead leaves and twigs stuck to their clothes and their hair.

Greyback threw the delivery into the middle, watching it role to a stop at the feet of the Dark Lord.

"I said alive, Greyback," Voldemort said, poking it with his toe and smirking.

"Oh, he's alive…barely," the werewolf laughed.

Draco tried to see who it was.

Then he saw.

Colin Creevey.

He knew the kid. Some Gryffindor runt. A sixth year or something, he had a little brother and a family and…Draco knew what was about to happen.

"My dragon," the Dark Lord called to him. Draco pushed through the few people in front of him and walked up, bowing before his Lord. "I have a present for you, pet."

Draco kept his eyes down, trying to think of something, anything that could get him out of having to hurt this kid.

"I thank-you, my Lord," he managed before he upset the leader.

The snake man leaned forward, grabbing Draco's face and forcing eye contact. "Will your darling lion love you after you have killed his friend, my pet?" his eyes flared red and hot. The words were a whisper that no one else could hear. Draco's storm cloud eyes widened in horror.

The Dark Lord drew back.

"Go ahead, my dragon, show us all what power you have."

Draco stood up straight, drew his wand from his sleeve and looked down at the body. Creevey was breathing, he was young, and he was alive.

A suffocation hex, an electrocution jinx, a spell to set fire to his nerves, another to snap all his bones, a line of words and a stream of pain.

Voldemort laughed as the boy screamed and jerked and shivered with each new torture. The gathering watched, impressed, as Draco stood, emotionless.

"Kill him, loyal one, make him die," Voldemort held Draco's gaze and without hesitation Draco let the green curse go.

"Your commands have been carried out, my Lord." He bowed. "What more do you wish of me?"

"Nothing for now." Draco returned to the crowd. He held his distance from anyone else and they seemed to watch him with respect now, not just fear. Draco kept his emotions shut off, repeating only the words "keep it in, keep it in, keep it in." He refused to break.

The corpse was taken by Greyback and dragged to the castle, thrown on the doorstep and left.

The Dark Lord kept them for a while longer. Told them his plans and he organized raids, little attacks on the Ministry for later that week and month. They were excused.

"Hold back, my dragon."

Everyone evacuated quickly, leaving the master with his chosen pet.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You did well tonight," he commented, smirking.

"Thank-you, my Lord."

"Obviously I know of your little…tryst with Potter," his voice lost all sweetness, growing cold and disgusted.

Draco was silent.

"He will know it was you, darling," Voldemort stood and walked over. "He was here tonight, you see, with all his friends and those Aurors. I don't care. The plans they overheard are meaningless, little things. You didn't know he was coming tonight, did you?"

Draco shook his head. He honestly didn't.

"He wasn't allowed to tell you. They thought that if I read your mind, they would be found out and caught and killed. Too risky. You're a liability. But, oh pet, it doesn't matter what they try. I will always be one step ahead."

Draco was quiet.

"Tell them nothing," he grabbed the blond hair and forced Draco to look at him. "I will kill you myself, precious, if it comes to it. The day you let slip anything about us is the day you lose your life."

"I understand, my Lord,"

"Leave, now," he let go, "Run home, dragon."

Draco nodded and walked out of the clearing, into the dark woods.

He wandered back, weaving between trees and stopped to look at the nothingness in the sky and could not grasp single thoughts. Vague notions of where to step crossed his mind but nothing significant. Finally he reached the edge of the forest. He was on the far side of the lake, still a long walk from the school.

Malfoy took a few steps forward and then vaguely registered he was walking into the lake. It seemed easy, then, to just keep going. To wait until it was too cold to use his limbs. He did, floating out into the dark space and staring at the dark sky.

Slowly his body grew heavy and he felt his legs begin to sink, a sure sign that the rest of him would follow.

He did not really want to die. A distinct disconnect filled him though, it was hard to say no, to get up and stop himself or to make his arms or legs move. It was just so…mindless.

"Draco?" a shape appeared above him.

It was Harry.

What?

Draco frowned.

That made no sense. No damn sense at all.

He looked around himself. Lake in every direction. He began to tread water where he was, slowly, just enough to keep afloat.

"Draco?" Harry repeated and his wand, lit bright, appeared. "What are you doing?" His voice was confused, worried, hoarse, perhaps angry even.

"I don't know," he answered slowly.

Harry reached an arm down, "Give me your hand."

Without arguing, Draco took the hand offered and was pulled with ease onto a broom.

Oh. That explained that.

"Let's get you somewhere warm." Harry flew them to the castle and in through a window.

"What's going on?" Draco asked as he dismounted, "Why are you still talking to me?"

Harry frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You…" he frowned and looked at the floor, now wet from his dripping. His fingers began to burn from the change in temperature. It was quite warm in the room.

"What?"

"You weren't at the meeting tonight?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "We didn't even know there was one this week."

"But," Draco paused. "The Dark Lord said you were there. He said he didn't care. He…he told me…he lied."

"What's going on, Draco?" Harry asked.

The blonde shook his head. Thinking was just a step away from remembering and remembering would bring back what he had done tonight.

"I have to…I-"

"Drake, what is it?" Harry reached out to him, taking his hand. "You can tell me anything."

"I killed someone," he said and felt his whole insides quiver. His hands burned and his body was shivering and his hair was sopping wet and stinging his eyes or maybe that was tears. He couldn't tell.

Harry nearly dropped his hand.

"What?"

"The Dark Lord…he somehow found out about us," Draco's eyes were on the floor, his free hand holding his head, trying to keep things in focus. "He wanted to punish me. He made me kill someone. He…he wants us apart. He threatened me and said I would die if I told you anything about the Death Eaters. He said he knew you had been spying and he didn't care, anything you overheard was child's play, little things. He wants me to himself."

"Draco…" Harry stepped closer. "We'll figure this out."

"No," Draco stepped away. "No…I-I can't. I'm sorry, Harry. I can't justify killing people for you. I love you but…I don't have long to live anyways and I can't spend my last few months killing others just to be with you. I'm sorry. I have to-I can't." He tore his hand away and turned, making for the door.

"You love me?"

"Of course I do," he said, stopping for a second.

"I love you too."

At breakfast Dumbledore stood before the gathering of students. His face was dark and serious. Everyone looked up at him, curious as to what was the matter with their headmaster.

"Today is a very serious day," he looked down. "This morning the body of one of our students was found on the grounds. We believe that he was the victim of the Killing Curse."

Everyone began looking around for friends or siblings who might have been missing.

"Colin Creevey was a much beloved student and brother in our community."

Dennis let out a yell of horror and was immediately pulled into the arms of a nearby friend. Students were looking at each other in shock and sadness.

Harry looked across the hall at Draco. The blonde was playing his role perfectly, looking upset and sympathetic.

Murderer.

He felt his insides quake in rage. When he didn't know who had been killed, it didn't seem so real. It was as if he could write it off. Now, now that he knew it was Colin, it was so horrifying he couldn't even begin to forgive. He immediately knew he had to speak to the headmaster.

……………

"Professor," he burst in. "I know who killed Colin."

Dumbledore looked up at him. "As do I, Harry."

"Y-you do?"

"Of course." He nodded, "We had Aurors present at the meeting. They saw everything."

"But you didn't tell me about the meeting." He said.

"If you knew you might have told Mr. Malfoy. If he knew and the Dark Lord read his mind our aurors would have been in great danger."

"So you didn't trust me to keep a secret?"

"No, Harry, that's not it at all," he brushed off the question. "We just had to make sure things were…safe."

"You don't trust me?" Harry was confused. His anger at Draco was ebbing and his anger at the Head Master was rising.

"I trust you alone, Harry. I just don't trust Mr. Malfoy." He tried to reason.

"So you don't trust me with Draco?" Harry felt himself growing more annoyed.

"I don't trust Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore repeated. "He is given to selfishness, self-preservation, egotism and I find him to be disloyal, untrustworthy and possibly even cruel at times. Mr. Malfoy is an asset in this war, Harry, but to be perfectly honest his death will not particularly upset me."

Harry stepped away. "That's a horrible things to say."

"He is a horrible person," Dumbledore did not seem upset. "He killed Colin. Harry, he murdered an unarmed, restrained, innocent young wizard. Your friend Draco did not even put up a fight, he killed willingly. I will keep my promise to Mr. Malfoy and protect his mother but I will do no more than what is required for that snake."

Harry shook his head and rushed out, trying to make sense of all this.

He found himself running to the lake edge. He looked out and he saw one of the rowboats that the First Years were ferried across in. A single form sat inside, curled up in a dark cloak and floating mindlessly across the wide, deep span.

The lion summoned his broom and mounted, slowly riding out towards the small boat. He already knew who it was.

His anger was gone. He was filled with a distinct feeling of being lost and scared.

He carefully landed in the boat and Draco looked over at him.

"If you want to send me to Azkaban just do it, I'd rather not wait."

Harry just looked at him.

"No, no I'm not here to," he paused. He did not know what he was there to do, "I just wanted to tell you…I don't blame you. I'm not mad at you.

"You've really forgiven me?" Draco did not seem to believe him

"I haven't forgiven you," Harry said, "I just need you to know that I don't blame you. I know that you didn't have a choice. I know you would never kill of your own accord."

"You don't know that," Draco kept his eyes turned away.

"I do though. You're too caring to ever kill."

"I don't think you understand what you're saying."

"Maybe I don't know you as well as Blaise or Pansy or Theodore or even Hermione. I haven't known you as long or in the same capacity but really, Draco, who else knows you like I do? Is there anyone else in your life that's anything like me? Anyone else you've hated and then loved like you have with me?

"Things are really screwed up right now. You've killed someone and the Dark Lord knows about us and Dumbledore hates you and he's lying to me. We're both in peril here but no matter what, I'll come back to you. I've never had anything like what we have. It's doomed to be temporary but I don't care. All I care about is making sure you're with me. That's all I want." Harry said and reached out for the other boy.

"You don't understand what you're saying."

"No," Harry grabbed his hands and leaned into him. He looked straight into the gunmetal eyes and spoke. "That's just it. For once I know exactly what I am saying. I know that this isn't normal or easy or conceivable but what we have, Draco, is something I think people wait their whole lives for. I know we haven't talked about being anything, we've just sort of been but I need you to know that I really do love you. I'm willing to fight for you, fight a war for you. I'm willing to die for you."

"Don't say that," Draco shook his head.

"Draco, listen," Harry put a hand on his cheek, holding the pale face still. "I am so caught up in you, I just want you. I know it's temporary, that we'll have to end because you have to die…but I want our time together to be as long as possible, and as happy as possible. If you stop going to meetings, if you stay inside the castle, then we can make it to the end."

"And what's the end for us, I die and you go on living? When I die, and I know it's not long now, there's nothing to say you have to die. You could walk away from the funeral, marry Ginny and have a wonderful life never thinking about me again."

Harry stopped him, "I will never love after you."

Draco looked at him.

It was all so fast. None of it really made sense. He was scared and shocked and flattered. He was confused and exhausted and cold. He was sad, in mourning really; he was in pain and trembling. He was worn down and he wasn't thinking straight. Mostly, though, he was in love.

"I will do what it takes, Harry."

The lion smiled and kissed him.

"Let's go inside and get warm. You need some sleep." They stood in the boat.

"Hello, pups," a voice yelled to them from shore. They both turned quickly to see Remus standing on shore. "We have some talking to do," he called.

They nodded and returned to the edge of the lake. Remus led them inside and to his office where he sat them down.

"So," the older man looked at the boys, "Were you planning to tell Dumbledore?"

"No, not really," Harry shook his head.

"That's a terrible idea, Harry," Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore will need to know eventually."

"He knows as much as I care to have him know." Harry frowned. "He is aware that Draco and I are close and that has been enough to make him upset enough to lie to me. He does not need to know about other student's relationships so he doesn't need to know about mine."

"Harry," Remus looked at him skeptically, "You know it's not the same. I wish you would tell him but if you think it's unnecessary then I won't push you."

"Thank-you," Harry nodded.

"Now," Remus crossed his arms, "I would like to know how you're going to handle the impending war, which you two are on opposite sides for, might I add."

"I am already a spy for Dumbledore." Draco said. "It has become apparent that the Dark Lord made me a horcrux and that means I have to die in order for him to be defeated. I am at peace with this and Harry is too. So don't worry, Professor, I want keep him too long."

The other men were quiet, Remus for shame of what he had said and sympathy for the boy, Harry for sadness that the first person he had loved would leave him.

Draco stood and brushed the wrinkled from his pants. "I'll be going now. See you both in classes."

He turned and walked out, leaving them both to silence.

Remus looked at the table, and sighed. "Do you love him, Harry?"

The lion looked at the wolf.

"I do."

"We know he killed the boy, we know he has the mark and Dumbledore thinks Mister Malfoy killed Collin willingly. Apparently you're testimony mere hours ago did nothing to help that situation. He wants to expel Draco, he wants him out of the castle. Dumbledore is going to have a faculty vote soon. Most of them are quite close to him but none will let that get in the way of protecting the rest of the students and the school."

"No," Harry shook his head, angry, "Dumbledore said he would protect Draco. He can't do that!"

"Dumbledore offered to protect Draco but he refused. Mr. Malfoy wanted his mother protected instead. Narcissa is coming here tonight and especially with the recent murder the faculty is wary to have more than one Malfoy in the castle at a time. Draco is a danger to everyone he is near. Don't be fooled, Harry, he was bred to kill."

"I won't let you do this to him," Harry stood, knocking back his chair.

"Harry, you don't have a choice. There's nothing you can do."

"I don't believe that," Harry left the room and went straight to Dumbledore's office. He shouted the password and stormed up the stairs.

Dumbledore sat at his desk, signing forms of some sort and he looked up.

"Hello, Harry."

"If you expel Draco you'll have to expel me too."

"Harry, my boy, you don't know what you're saying."

"No," Harry glared, "Today of all days I know what I am saying. Draco is too valuable to us, to the cause, to me for you to kick him out. I want him here, protected, inside at all times. Protect him the same way you're protecting Narcissa or I will leave this place."

"You have nowhere to go, Harry," Dumbledore smirked. "You're throwing a tantrum, just calm down and in a few hours you will come back yet again and tell me Draco is a murderer and a danger. You don't know what you want."

"If you won't listen, that's fine. We'll figure this out on our own." Harry left and rushed to Gryffindor.

"Hermione, Ron, come here." They stood from the couch where they were sitting and went to his side. "What's up?"

"Dumbledore is trying to expel Draco."

"What?"

"Draco was forced to kill Collin last night because Voldemort found out about him and me."

Ron frowned. "What about you and Draco?"

"We're together, Ron."

He blinked a few times, "Oh."

"But now Dumbledore is saying Draco is a danger to the school and needs to be removed. I won't let that happen to him."

"Hold on," Hermione shook her head. "Draco killed Collin?"

"He was forced to."

"And now Dumbledore wants to expel him?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Harry nodded.

"What do you want us to do?" she asked, smiling to reassure her friend.

Harry smiled at her. "We have to get the Slytherins, Zabini, Parkinson and Knott to stand with us. They're spies, right? They'll do whatever they can to help Draco."

"Then let's go," Hermione nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry smiled at her. "We have to get the Slytherins, Zabini, Parkinson and Knott to stand with us. They're spies, right? They'll do whatever they can to help Draco."

"Then let's go," Hermione nodded.

The three lions rushed out, down to the large, blank wall guarding Slytherin.

"Horns," the passwords for each common room house were shared between prefects, apparently. The wall shivered and exposed a large, round opening for them to pass through.

Inside the many couches and bookshelves lay silent, lit only by the dying fires. No one sat around laughing or talking. It was as if Slytherin was deserted.

"What now?" Ron asked, looking around in his confusion.

"Can I help you?" one of the portraits spoke up. It was a man in black robes, sitting in a high backed chair reading a thick tome entitled "Corpus Juris Civilis."

"We need to find Draco Malfoy, please," Hermione walked over to him.

"That boy? Why he's through the fourth bookshelf to the right of the second fireplace, just pull out any Latin text and you'll get through. Make sure to not pull the one called Populus, though, that rings the alarm."

"Thank-you so much Hiriam," she smiled. The man in the painting was a former Head of Slytherin. Hiriam Droggs was a Charms professor from the nineteen twenties who was best known for his translations of ancient texts. He had shaggy gray hair and big green eyes and a rather large mouth. Hermione told them that Droggs had sat guard over the common room since his death in nineteen-twenty-seven when he was killed.

The trio walked to the specified bookcase, chose a book in Latin not Populus, and pulled it. The tall, oak fixture slid backwards two feet then to the side, showing a narrow, steep set of stairs leading down.

It had much the appearance of a secret passage and more than likely it was. The steps were rough and uneven, the walls were jagged and wet, probably from the lake, and there were only occasional candelabras stuck in holes along the walls. Then they reached a thick door with iron bars crossing it length and width wise, enforcing the dank feel of the place.

The trio had been there before, of course, for the party a long time ago and Harry had often visited so he could spend time with Draco. The door had a little door in it, able to be locked from the inside, through which Blaise or Draco could look at their visitors.

Ron knocked and they listened to the sound echo within the rooms behind.

Footsteps came next and the slight grind of the iron on the wood.

Blaise's brilliant eyes appeared and he looked at the three. "What?"

"We need to talk to you." Harry said, "Please let us in."

The Persian sighed and the little door closed. The grinds of the locks were heard and then the door opened. Blaise let them in and they took their seats around the fireplace.

"What is it?"

"We need your help, Blaise," Harry said.

He lit up a cigarette and frowned a little. "There are, obviously, a lot of things you need my help with, boy princess, but what is it specifically?"

"Dumbledore is going to try and expel Draco."

"What?" Blaise sat up, "Hold on."

He lifted himself off the couch in a single, fluid motion and went to the fire place. He threw a small pile of black powder in. The flames flashed to black and both Pansy and Theo's heads appeared.

"What is it?"

"Come here now please," Blaise tapped his ash into the fire and waited. After just a few minutes the two stepped out of the fire, brushing dust off their clothes.

Pansy had a long sweater on with leggings. Her hair was still wet and just one of her hands had the nails painted. Theo had on loose linen pants and a wife beater and his glasses.

"What is it, Blaise?" Theo sat down, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and Pansy sat next to him.

"Tell them, Potter," Blaise took a drag and blew the smoke up where it immediately dissipated, as if by magic.

"Dumbledore is going to try and expel Draco. He is going to have a faculty vote and use the fact that Draco was forced to kill Collin as evidence that it isn't safe to keep him at the school."

"That's bullshit," Pansy frowned. "Draco is loved by the professors and we are allowed to attend the meeting if we want. We'll go and implore the faculty to keep him here and remember that Draco is a spy, a pureblood and good person."

"Will they believe you?"

"If you go they will."

"What?"

"Tell the teachers what you feel, what you think." Pansy said, "Tell them that we support Draco and if he risks his life to defend the light then he should not be faulted for continuing to do so. Point out how important you are to the cause and all of us, without the spies and without you three there is no Light. Threaten them if you have to."

"Why me?"

"You're our best bet," Pansy shrugged.

"Blaise," Theo looked at him, "Where is Draco?"

"Sleeping," he answered, "Poor thing has been passed out since he got home about an hour ago."

"We can have Draco attend the meeting too," Theo suggested, "The faculty is fond of him so it should help your point."

"Okay," Harry nodded and looked at the passage into Draco's room. "Can I go talk to him?"

"Sure," Blaise shrugged. "I am going to finish this smoke and start a bottle of wine. You kids want to share it with me?"

Theo and Pansy agreed and Hermione and Ron slowly did the same.

Harry left them and walked to the fourth in the series of doors.

This one was black with gleaming steel studs around the edge. A plaque sat on the front of the door, just below eye level.

"Draconis Lucius Malfoy," it read, "Seventh Year, Slytherin Prefect," on the next line.

"Hey," he knocked lightly.

There was no answer.

He knocked again.

The door opened, "What? Oh, hey."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Draco nodded though he seemed pale and tired.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," Draco stepped aside and Harry slipped in.

"Are you okay?" He repeated his question, knowing the first answer was false.

Draco sat on his bed, which was unmade as if he had just gotten out of it.

"I've been better but I've been worse."

Harry sat next to him, "Dumbledore wants to expel you…"

Draco looked at him and sighed. "That's not surprising."

"Since your mother is arriving soon he's going to try and play on the fears of the faculty and warn them of the dangers of multiple Malfoys, I guess. Remus can explain it better than me."

"I understand," Draco nodded.

"But I'm going to go to the meeting and convince them to let you stay."

Draco frowned. "That would mean revealing…us."

"I don't care who knows," Harry said, "You're important to me and I want you to stay here."

He did not respond, just crawled up his bed and climbed under the covers. "I am tired, Harry."

The lion nodded.

"Sleep with me?" Draco asked.

"Always," Harry smiled, climbing up and curling his arms around the blonde.

They lay with one another and slept for nearly five hours before Harry roused. The faculty meeting was in less than an hour and he had yet to think of anything to say. "I'll be back soon," he whispered and left a kiss on Draco's cheek. He could not bear to wake the boy from his much needed sleep. He would just speak to them alone and they would have to listen.

He pulled on his sweater and walked to the room where staff meetings were held. Inside he saw the teachers sitting and discussing something, passing papers back and forth and laughing occasionally.

He stepped in.

They all looked up and went quiet.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?" McGonogall asked.

"I came to speak on behalf of Draco Malfoy."

They frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Dumbledore is going to move to expel him from Hogwarts."

There was a hushed whisper among the staff.

"Why would you speak for him?" Snape asked from his seat.

Harry took a breath to steady himself.

"Because I know him."

Dumbledore smiled from his seat. "You do?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. "He is planning to die for this war, to save a lot of us and he's one of the only people I really trust anymore. He was forced to kill Colin and he has suffered to serve the Light and save people. There's no reason to expel him except for the paranoia and prejudices of the head master. I understand that he is dangerous and you may all be scared of him and his mother but you don't know him like I do. He's smart and kind and he's always been a good student and a good person. You all know that Draco and I have had our issues so shouldn't it say something to you that I am here now, speaking for him? He and I are close now, we trust one another and if you force him to leave I will leave too."

"He makes a good point, Albus," someone said.

"What is your argument?" McGonogall asked the head master.

"Mr. Malfoy murdered a fellow student and is a known follower of the Dark Lord. He is a pureblood whose father is more or less openly supporting Voldemort and is responsible for the deaths of many people, including Mr. Potter's own parents. The Malfoys are dangerous and if I had not sworn to protect Mrs. Malfoy, I would never allow her near the castle or the grounds. They are a family of murderers and I would rather the boy have never come here to begin with."

"You're a bigot," Harry snarled, "Draco is as deserving as anyone else of the protection you can provide. Draco is giving up so much to be here and to help us, the least you can do is respect him."

"The boy has a point," McGonogall said. "I vote to let the boy stay."

Snape voted the same way.

Slowly each teacher raised his or her hand.

Dumbledore glared. "If you are all willing to endanger the student body and allow a murderer in our walls then so be it. I will not stand for it," he stood.

"You're leaving the school?"

"I am," he set down his pen. "Are you proud of yourself, Harry? You've condemned everyone here to death and driven me out."

Harry just watched the old man leave.

There was a sigh of exhaustion among the teachers.

"What now?"

"I take over," McGonogall stood. "It will be difficult but war is war and we must move forward."

Harry nodded, "Thank-you all."

"Go on now, Harry, we have things to discuss."

He left the room and wandered back to Slytherin.

"How'd it go?" Pansy asked. She lay on the couch, her eyes slightly glazed from the four open bottles of wine.

"Dumbledore left the school."

"What?" they all sat up.

"Draco can stay but…"

"As much as we all hate to admit, Dumbledore was the only thing keeping Voldemort from the front steps."

"We have to step up and plan this war," Blaise lit another cigarette.

Theo untangled himself from Pansy and stood. "I'll start."

They watched him leave. For the first time, Harry saw a large black tattoo covering the quiet snake's back; a crest of ravens and a willow tree with a Latin phrase along the bottom.

"This won't last too long," Hermione said, "This peace."

Then Draco's door flew open and the blonde rushed out, heavy black cloak around his shoulders.

"Where are you going?"

"I've been called," he said and went to the door. "I'll be okay."

"No," Harry grabbed at him, "You can't."

"Why?"

"Dumbledore is gone, you're under protection here and leaving…it could prove fatal."

"The Dark Lord won't kill me himself," Draco said, "I'm his soul."

"Please be careful," Harry put an arm around his waist.

"I will," Draco kissed him. "I won't be long."

Harry let him go and the door closed.

………...…..

"You came," Voldemort smiled.

"I will always come for you, my Lord," Draco knelt, his white mask in place.

"I am pleased to hear it, pretty one," there was a small gathering of men, only the most inner circle.

Lucius was there, as was Severus, Greyback, and Pettigrew and Draco hardly recognized anyone else.

"Now," Voldemort smiled, "My most trusted spy within Hogwarts has reported that Dumbledore has only just left. We must plan our move, I want to take that castle in one attack and then it can become our base, our powerhouse."

"I support you, my Lord," Draco nodded.

"Good," Voldemort stroked the white blonde hair of the young snake and smiled his horrible little smile.

"What are you thinking of, my Lord?" Lucius asked.

"I want to gather all of our forces; dementors, trolls, werewolves and any wizard or witch that wishes to follow me. We will rise up and invade the castle, hold the children hostage and kill the mud bloods, kill the teachers who will not follow us and brand those who will."

"As you wish," they all bowed.

"For now we will gather our strength." He waved them off, "Leave me."

Everyone did but he kept his serpent red eyes on Draco.

The young Malfoy stayed.

"What would you like, my Lord?"

"I would like to know if you're still _with_ Potter…"

"I am, my Lord," Draco chose not to lie. "He trusts me, you see and has been telling me about their plans, their defenses."

"Has he?"

"Yes," Draco nodded.

"Tell me everything," Draco was pulled close and the mold and death smell of the Dark Lord filled his nose.

………………

The door ground open and Draco slipped through. Blaise and Pansy had long since gone to bed, curling up with one another and dozing off. Ron and Hermione returned to Gryffindor but Harry stayed up and stayed put. He sat on the edge of Draco's bed, watching the bedroom door and hoping it would open soon.

When it did he jumped up and ran to the boy. "What happened?"

"I told him."

"What?"

"I told the Dark Lord that I was with you to find out your plans and that I would report them all back to him. We need to come up with real plans and then fakes that I can feed the Dark Lord."

"Easy."

"It's all so complicated. We have to move fast because the Dark Lord will too. He's gathering his forces and he won't stop," Draco shook his head. "We need to start now."

"No," Harry wrapped his arms around the boy, "We start in the morning. Sleep with me."

Draco nodded slowly and let himself be pulled into bed and undressed and wrapped in the strong arms of the hero.

...............

**The story is coming along swimmingly! I am so happy for the reviews and support. I hope you all continue to enjoy it and keep reading!**

**Love,**

**Firestorm  
**


	11. Chapter 11

For a few days, they seemed to ignore classes. They slept, ate and planned a war from the snake den. Draco and Hermione sat with Theo and they poured over maps and angrily drew lines with coloured inks, showing where people would be or should go. Harry and Ron spent most of their time planning a new incarnation of the DA, but which involved more people, all the upper years, in fact, and what they would teach and where. Blaise and Pansy sat on a small couch and organized where to evacuate the younger years to.

Hermione, Theo and Draco occasionally wandered off to class but came back after just one or two, sitting back at their places and continuing the plans. They all seemed strained by the thought of anything but the war.

When night came, only known to be night by the chime of the clock in the corner, they all picked themselves up and wandered to bed; Harry with Draco, Pansy with Blaise, and Hermione with Ron. Theo never went to sleep with everyone else; he always stayed up at least two hours more and was awake well before them. No one questioned him though.

"Good morning," Hermione walked into the room and into the kitchen where she started the water for some tea and for coffee from the French press.

"Morning," Draco glanced up at her. "How'd you sleep?"

"Barely, but well enough," she shrugged. Draco nodded and unrolled a new set of maps. "Where did we leave off last night?"

She put a hand on her cheek and frowned, "We were trying to figure out how much we would have to saturate the forest with Aurors before we could effectively safeguard against a land attack."

"It was a lot, huh?"

"A lot," she nodded, "Just, the forest is so thick that we would need a guard every fifteen feet all the way around the castle and that's a lot to ask. We could never get that many and besides, the forest is terrible for communicating and movement, coordinating forces would be impossible."

"A fair point, but then how do we guard the castle?"

"Theo mentioned some spells that might work, he was going to look into it today while you and I decide on a distance perimeter that we would want anything set at, far enough to give us time but close enough that it's manageable. We can't have every troll and centaur setting it off."

Draco nodded and pulled out a compass and began to calculate the perimeter of the grounds.

Harry wandered down and scratched his head, yawning. "Morning," he walked over and grabbed some coffee, sipping generously to wake up.

"What are you working on today?" Draco asked.

"I think we're going over the lists of students and deciding who to train to help us and who to use as guides for the younger years. It's just…going to be tough to decide who has to risk their life and who has to sit on the side and watch their friends in danger."

Draco nodded. Harry smiled at him and they exchanged a look, then detached from one another's gaze.

"When is Ron getting here?"

"He was showering when I left," Hermione said.

"Oh?" Draco grinned.

"Shut up," Hermione blushed. "He walked me to my room and we started talking then…just fell asleep."

"I'm sure," Draco smiled into his tea. "Sounds like what happens every night with me and Princess Potter."

"You're crude, Draco," Hermione frowned. "Ron and I aren't…we're not…I'm not as easy as you are." She settled on that wording.

"Not everyone can be this easy." Draco stuck out his tongue.

"Please, Drake, don't advertise yourself." Harry joked.

The blonde shrugged.

"What's going on?" Blaise stumbled into the room, running a hand through his short, dense hair.

"Just morning chatter," Hermione answered, "About how easy Draco is."

"Oh," he yawned, "Drake's really easy. It's incredible, actually."

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco grinned, "You're just jealous I got laid more often than you do."

"And how often is that?" the tall boy asked, picking up a mug of coffee.

Draco pursed his lips together and glared, "None of your business."

"So you and the golden lion haven't shagged?" Harry and Draco went red.

Hermione smiled into her tea.

Blaise laughed loudly, "You can't talk anymore Drake, not at all. I won't hear a word about how I'm not getting any because you're not either."

"Don't be smug," Hermione nudged him gently.

"Oh, please, since we were thirteen he's been giving me shit about how I get laid way less than he does. I don't think we've gone a week or more without him mentioning it and now, _now_ that he's all monogamous and cutesy with the boy wonder, I'm having a tonne more sex than him. It's amazing."

Hermione rolled her eyes but could not help but to smile.

Draco smirked, "You don't have to have sex just to be happy," he said.

"That's got to be the most mature thing you've ever said," Blaise laughed.

"I know. Does maturity flatter me?" The blonde looked over his shoulder to Harry.

"It makes yours thighs look chunky," Pansy said as she entered the room from the stairs to Blaise's room, "But what doesn't?"

Draco whirled around to glare at her and the room laughed.

"I like your thighs just how they are," Harry kissed Draco's cheek and then moved to a couch.

Pansy smiled. She took some tea and sipped carefully, smiling into the steam and letting it warm her face, left cold by the open window in Blaise's room. She glanced to the boy and he was carefully examining the floor.

The door opened to let Theo and Ron in, the two looked like opposites. Theo was well put together in a long-sleeved green shirt with black slacks and designer shoes. His straw gold hair was pushed carefully out of his eyes, bright orbs of grey-blue behind square framed glasses. He had a satchel of books and rolls of paper but he seemed calm and pleased with the day. Ron wore an old, ragged green shirt that had faded into a grayish green and the sleeves were different lengths, his jeans had more patches than original fabric and his shoes were ready to give up and fall apart. He had a simple band of dragon leather around one wrist, a gift from Hermione last year, and a necklace with his family crest on it. His blue eyes were bleary, like he was not awake enough to be moving, and his red hair was still damp from his shower, tossed in every direction.

"Ooh, food," Ron darted to the kitchen and loaded a plate with food. "I'm starving."

"As usual," Hermione smiled and stood next to him. He grinned at her.

Theo walked over to Draco and set down the books and papers, "Morning."

"Eat something," Draco commanded without greeting the boy. "You're losing weight."

"Aren't we all?" He asked and seated himself instead of getting food.

"At least have some toast and bacon, Theo," Hermione said and made a plate for him.

He eyed the food and then carefully agreed, more to please his friends than for his own desire.

The day kept on, each person working on what they knew they had to.

Around lunch Ron began to pout his hunger and they all agreed to break for a meal, relax for a while and come back to it.

They walked up the stairs and through the Slytherin common room, up a hundred stairs it seemed and then into the Great Hall. Snape watched them all but did not comment.

McGonagall sat in the Headmaster's chair, looking over the students like a watchful and nervous mother. All the teachers kept their eyes on the door, their hands on their wands, as if ready for the attack at any moment.

Everyone seemed ready, even though they were all horribly unprepared.

………………

Hermione and Ron stood in her room. It was midnight, or nearly so, and he had walked her home again.

He paused and looked at her.

"Hermione…"

"What?"

"I really care about you."

She watched him, confused.

"Hermione," he held her hands and looked down at them, nervously, "We've known each other for six years. It's not always been easy and I've spent most of that time being a complete wanker. It's really just been this year that we've, I guess, gotten over ourselves and figure all this out. I'm happy with you. I don't want to lose this."

"You won't, Ron."

"But in war, it's difficult to guarantee anything. I'm not scared about dying or fighting, Hermione, I'm scared of losing you. That's all that keeps me awake anymore."

"Ron, it'll be okay."

"Promise me something," he looked into her light eyes.

"What is it?"

"If we survive this war…will you marry me?"

"Ron," she gasped.

"I don't have a ring but I mean it. If we make it, I want to spend my life with you because nothing scares me like the thought of losing you. Please?"

She smiled, "Of course, Ron."

"Really?"

"I would have said yes in First Year," she smiled and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him. He smiled and kissed her back, wrapping his long arms around her waist and holding her tight.

"I love you," he said as he broke the kiss, "I do."

"I love you too," she smiled. "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

"Sure," they climbed into bed and curled up in one another, slowly falling asleep smiling.

………….

"Blaise?" Pansy blinked in the darkness.

"What?" he rolled over in his bed and sat up. The moonlight from the window lit up his face and she walked over to him.

"I couldn't sleep," she said and climbed into bed without asking.

He lifted back the covers and wrapped an arm around her. She turned onto her side and faced him in the dark.

"Are you okay?" he asked, touching his nose to hers and whispering.

"I suppose," she sighed. "I'm just so scared, Blaisey."

"We all are," he pulled her closer.

"I don't want to lose Draco."

He looked at her in concern.

"I don't want him to die. I hate the idea of losing him. What will we do?"

"We'll go on," he whispered, "We always go on."

"I can't imagine it," she said, "Us without him."

"I don't believe we'll ever really be without him. He's our best friend, we can't lose him even after death."

"What is this war going to do to us?"

"It's going to ruin us," he kissed her nose, "But it'll be okay."

…………..

Morning dawned and everyone walked to see McGonagall, she had called them up to her office for something.

The room had fewer trinkets and fewer shelves. The mild chaos of Dumbledore's office was gone, replaced by order, organization and codes. McGonagall sat behind a clean desk with only quills, ink and parchment on it. She looked worn but sturdy and determined.

Snape was already sitting, drinking tea and looking displeased.

"Morning students," she motioned and they spread out on the four large couches.

"Morning ma'am," they greeted her.

"What's going on?"

"Lady Malfoy arrives today," she said, "I wanted you all here to greet her and make sure she does okay transitioning into the castle. I was also hoping to talk to all of you about what you've been working on."

"Okay."

"Now, she arrives in an hour. Until then, tell me about your plans."

They discussed with her the evacuation routes and plans for the younger years, the training regiment for the older kids, the safe spots, the necessary defenses, the number of aurors and order members necessary, the improvements to the hospital wing, the weak spots, the issues, everything. She wrote notes down and nodded, considering things and asking questions.

She agreed with their plans and offered to help however she could.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Come in."

The door slowly pushed open and there, in a black dress and pearls, stood Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry had not seen her in ages but he remembered her, her white hair, alabaster skin, serious eyes and a constant look of displeasure on her face. She was not a tall woman, perhaps five foot six but was perfectly proportioned.

"Mother," Draco leapt up and went to her, hesitating for a second before hugging her.

"Son," she smiled and tentatively hugged him back, "I haven't seen you in awhile."

He stepped back from her, "I apologize, mother. I was worried about you."

"Like wise," she nodded and flattened the wrinkles from her dress. "Remember that we must keep our composure, Draconis."

"Yes, mother," he returned to his seat and she stood in the door for a moment, looking at McGonagall.

"Minerva," Narcissa nodded to her, "I thank you deeply for extending sanctuary to me."

"Madam Malfoy, I would not refuse an innocent person sanctuary."

"Again, thank you," Narcissa smiled. Snape kept his spot on the couch and sipped his tea. She looked over at him and then looked away.

"We've set up a room for you in the East Wing," McGonagall said, "I'll send for a-"

"I will take her," Snape stood.

"Please, professor," she shook her head, "That's not necessary."

"They know, Narcissa," he said.

She looked at the students and then the Head Mistress; she pursed her lips and nodded. "I suppose."

"Please, let me take you to your room."

"All right," she ran a hand over her left forearm and Harry looked at it, seeing no mark.

"We have a few short things to discuss, first."

"Of course," Narcissa walked over and gracefully seated herself.

"You will be asked to not leave the building until we can be assured of your safety," McGonagall said, "I know that is quite restrictive but you can understand our concern."

"Living with Lucius for eighteen years, I am used to restrictions Minerva."

"I can understand that," she nodded, "You will be able to use the castle as you wish, I am sure you remember it well enough from your years here."

"I do."

"I would also ask that you try to not interact with students, you know how they like to talk and ask questions. You will be introduced as a guest of the castle and students will be told to not bother you. Is that all right?"

"Of course," the white haired woman nodded and Harry saw, just peaking above the back of her dress, was the dark ink of her mark. He realized how little he knew about the mother of the boy he loved. He also realized how little he knew about that whole family.

"I would also like for you to hear out the children."

"Of course," she turned slightly to them and nodded.

Hermione and Theo did most of the explaining, about the plans and ideas and tactics.

"I understand," she nodded again and looked down at her nails, briefly.

"Do you have any extra information on the Dark Lord that we can use?"

She paused. "He will never let go of Draco."

The blonde boy nodded slowly.

"We knew that," McGonagall said.

Harry saw the matriarch stiffen slightly and Snape was instantly at her side. Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo all shifted too.

"What is it?"

"The Dark Lord is calling," Narcissa squared her shoulders.

"You feel when he calls?"

"More intensely than most."

"You will all need to go then," the Head Mistress nodded.

"We do," they all stood and rushed out, leaving the three lions and Narcissa with the former transfiguration teacher.

Silence broke down over those who remained.

**Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers! I love the story and it will keep going strong, I hope!**

**Love, **

**FireStorm  
**


	12. Chapter 12

Draco, in his black robe and porcelain mask, stood before the Dark Lord with his snakes at his back.

Lucius and Snape were on either side of the serpent man. The four young purebloods seemed nervous but they did not show it.

"Tell me, my pet, how is the little hero doing?"

"Well enough, my Lord, he is afraid of you. His base emotions are frustration and hatred, he is weak and untrained and unprepared."

"You flatter me," the snake man smiled, not upset by the boy.

"I tell the truth, my Lord."

"What of the change of power? How is Minerva handling the school?"

"Well enough, it seems. She has kept things running and seems to be doing well. I know little of the administration's interactions though, for this I apologize."

"Do not fear, dear one, I understand." The old man smiled and looked lovingly at the young boy.

"What more do you wish, my Lord?"

"I need to speak to your father and godfather, briefly," he said. "Have a pleasant night, children."

The snakes walked away, cautious so as not to give him a reason to call them back.

"Gentlemen," the Dark Lord had regained his intimidating demeanor. "I have felt that Narcissa has moved within the walls of the castle. What can you say to explain this to me?"

"My Lord," Snape knelt, "The new Head Mistress had heard about the incident, she was worried about Lady Malfoy, that she may be an asset to the Light, and called her in. They were still meeting, last I knew."

"How did she find out about that?" he looked suspiciously at the black haired man.

"I do not know."

"Really, Severus, everyone knows you are in love with dear Narcissa and always have been. It's why you're so good to her son and so faithful to her husband, you feel guilty for loving her the way you do. Do not worry, my loyal servant, I won't tell," he sneered. Lucius kept his eyes down and did not mention or react to anything. Severus breathed slowly.

"Please, my Lord, I had nothing to do with this."

"I hardly think begging will help you position," he rolled his slatted eyes.

"My Lord," Lucius bowed, "I sent her to the castle. She was beginning to ask questions, things I could not have her doing. She wanted to pull Draco from school, take him away, into the wilderness and away from you and the war. I thought I could satiate her by putting her in Hogwarts. She would be less trouble, I hoped."

"You are stupid, Lucius," the snake-man spat.

"I am sorry."

"I do not care," Voldemort snarled. "If she is within the castle, she can ruin everything."

"May I ask how?"

"She feels when you are all called," he snapped, "She will warn the head mistress and they will be warned of our attack."

"I did not know," Lucius said, "She never told me what happened to her, or what you did to her all those years ago."

"For good reason."

"I ask, my Lord, that you forgive my ignorance and mistake."

"You must first do something for me, Lucius."

"Anything, my Lord."

"Bring me Dumbledore."

"Is that possible?"

"I didn't ask you to bring him to me dead, did I?" he smirked.

"I will, my Lord."

................

"He is planning the attack for just a few weeks from now," Draco said, unrolling a large map of the castle grounds. "I do not think he will come from the lake or heavily from the air. His base in on the far side of Hogsmead so he will probably level the town and come down that road."

"Should we evacuate?"

Draco looked slowly towards Harry and Hermione, "He will know…"

"But we can't just leave them there," Harry protested.

"If we evacuate the town, the Dark Lord will know that we know both where he is hiding and that he is coming. That will give away not only that we have spies within his midst, but also that we are preparing for him. As it is, he has no idea that I am a double agent or that every Slytherin present is working against him. We cannot risk him going back under ground and extending this war for another year or more."

"Draco, you're proposing that we kill all those people."

"_We_ won't be killing them, Harry."

"Yes we will, by allowing them to stay, we will be responsible for their deaths."

"But how many more would die when this war is extended for another decade because he knows we spy on him? How many more will he murder in search for the persons who crossed him? Are you willing to sacrifice Severus, Pansy, Blaise, Theo…me?"

Harry was silent, horrified.

"The only solace we can take is that we do not know them and, as adult wizards, they should be able to protect themselves."

"Couldn't we warn them?"

"They will flee and their exodus will be an even more obvious sign to the Dark Lord. Harry, I don't think we can do anything to save them except hope he does not go through the town or that he only scares them and does not kill them."

"This seems horrible…"

"I know," Draco agreed. "What can we really do besides hope?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the deaths of dozens of people. They don't have to die, Draco."

"Harry, this is war. There is not much that can really be done. Sometimes people have to die and I hate to say it because I wish we could help them, but we can't. It is us or them."

"Cruelty," Harry shook his head, "This is pure cruelty."

Draco stood and sighed, "I hate it too-"

"Then why do you seem so nonplused by the idea of needlessly sacrificing five or six dozen people?" He stormed to the far side of the room.

Draco just stood in the middle of the room. "I was born to hide how I feel. You know me, Harry. I am not…" Draco stopped. "Do you really think this is something I want?"

Harry stopped. "I can't tell anymore."

Draco sharpened his face, glaring. "I am a snake, Harry, you know that. I am a Malfoy, and that you know too. I am a Death Eater and you have known that since the beginning. Of all the things I am, I am not a killer."

"Then why is Collin dead?" He snapped.

Draco squared his shoulders. "Two months ago you defended me in front of the entire faculty. Do you even remember what you said?"

Harry's jaw slackened, he blinked and seemed to reel internally from what he had been saying just moments ago. He sat down heavily, astonished and put his head in his hands. Draco frowned, confused. His shell slowly slipping as he walked over to the lion, concerned as well.

"I said that you were planning to die for this war. You were going to save a lot of us and that you were one of the only people I really trusted anymore. I told them that you were forced to kill Colin and you suffered to serve the Light and save people. I told that you were dangerous and they may have been scared of you…but they didn't know you like I did. I…said we trusted each other and that you were a good person."

"Have you changed your mind on any of that?" Draco asked slowly.

"Yes," Harry looked up quickly, "I have."

The blonde nodded, understanding.

Harry grabbed his wrist and stood, looking into the silvery eyes of the other boy.

"Draco, you're not a good person, you're a great one. You are not just planning to die for this war, but you're willing to. You're strong and brave and loyal, you're smart and kind and gentle. I don't just trust you. Draco, I love you."

The blonde paused, looking frantically for a sign of a lie or fear or anything. He found only truth and joy.

"Harry…"

"I know we don't say it very often, or at all really. I know you're not much of one for sappy emotions or shows of affection but I need you to know that no matter how dumb I am or how worked up I get I will never abandon you. Nothing will ever keep me from you."

Draco looked down, tracing his eyes over the threads in the collar of Harry's shirt to keep himself focused. "I love you too."

Harry placed a soft kiss on the blonde's forehead. "Let's get some cocoa and those cookies you like. We can worry about all this later."

............

Blaise wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"So."

"So?" she frowned.

"I'm taking you to London."

"What?"

"We have to have that make-over you agreed to."

Pansy was walking on the other side, smirking.

"Now? Why? What?" Hermione looked around, panicking.

"Well, yes. We feel you have been working too hard and I want you to feel wonderful about yourself. We want you to think you're as pretty as we think you are. Plus, it'll be a fun surprise for Ron."

Hermione bit her bottom lip.

"Do we have to go now? I was going to study…"

"Yes, now is the opportune moment." He turned her around and marched them out the front door. "Have you ever done side-along apparition?"

"No, and neither of you are old enough to apparate."

"Not legally, no," he kept an arm around her and, as they crossed the border of the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione felt her whole being get compressed. As soon as she could realize that they were gone from Hogwarts, they arrived in London. Blaise grinned at her, "Welcome to the Shining District."

She made a tiny squeak of terror as a lumbering giant passed by.

"Don't fear, darling," Pansy comforted her, "The Shining District is a strange little area, but quite wonderful once you get used to it."

"Okay," she hesitantly agreed. Blaise led the two girls into a small, nondescript shop only labeled Lucille's.

Inside, the walls were covered in rolls of fabric and racks of clothes, both robes and more muggle styles. Blaise walked in, looked around and nodded, satisfied by what he saw.

"Set your things down." Pansy took the bag and books from Hermione.

"I really should be working on plans-" the lioness tried to say as her things were taken.

"No," Blaise insisted, "This is a day to not worry, to relax, to do something for yourself."

"Okay," Hermione sat down in one of the armchairs and watched as Blaise and Pansy began looking for clothes for her.

"Come here," Pansy pulled her up, "I want to see which shade of blue looks best on you."

Pansy took two dresses from the rack; one was a more silver-blue and the other a deep ocean colour. They were the same basic dress; a low, square neck with halter straps, soft, almost satin material that hugged the figure, cut above the knee with a short slit to allow for walking.

"I like the darker blue better," Hermione said.

"Wonderful," Pansy replaced the other one, "We're going to give you highlights too, so this colour will look even better."

"Really?"

"Yes," Pansy hung the dress on the door of the large changing room, and then pushed her inside. "Try on all that, show us everything."

Hermione ended up with eighteen new outfits consisting of over thirty pieces of clothing. Skirts, pants, shirts, dresses, jackets, coats and scarves all stuffed the bags. Garment bags housed the two, beautiful new cocktail dresses she got, one being the blue one Pansy put her in and the other was a black strapless dress with an empire waist and a design of tiny white flowers along the bust and bottom hem. They went to a jewelry store and bought her necklaces, bracelets, rings and earrings. Then they arrived at the shoe store where Hermione was nearly overwhelmed with heels, boots, flats and sandals. Several house elves, for a few knuts, followed them around carrying all the bags. Hermione felt bad but kept on Pansy's heels, scared to be lost.

Blaise led them to a salon where a man stood, waiting.

"Is this our darling girl?" he asked.

"Sure is," the two snakes smiled, "We want it shorter, maybe just below the shoulder, with layers and colors and volume but…less volume than now."

He nodded and pulled Hermione into the chair.

Pansy and Blaise promised to return shortly; they were just going to drop all the bags off at her dorm.

After over an hour, they returned, just as he was finishing styling her hair.

They ooh'd over the new look and Hermione saw her reflection in the mirror and smiled. It looked beautiful. She and Pansy had their nails done, short and practical French manicures and then the three left.

After apparating back to the school, Blaise moved Hermione quickly to her room where they chose an outfit for her and discussed how to put outfits together. She agreed and then got ready for dinner.

They chose a black skirt with a high-waist that stopped just above the knee matched with a white, button-down shirt with cap sleeves. She put on black wedges and a gold charm bracelet and matching necklace. Pansy smiled.

"Suddenly I feel competition for the hottest girl in our group," she laughed.

"Oh hardly," Hermione assured her, "You're beautiful."

"Thank-you but in case you haven't noticed," Pansy pointed to the mirror, "You're not a hog yourself."

Hermione looked and then stared at her reflection.

Her hair, make-up, clothes and posture were all that of a beautiful young woman. She had never felt like this before.

She smiled.

Blaise did too.

"Come on, dinner started a few minutes ago."

"We're late?" Hermione gasped.

"Calm down," Pansy smiled. "We'll go first. Sit down, count to thirty slowly and then come. You can make an entrance."

"But-"

"Nope," Blaise backed out of the room, "We'll see you in a few minutes."

Hermione seated herself, took a deep breath and started to count.

She looked around at her wardrobe, now full of new clothes, and her jewelry box, formerly vacant except for her few necklaces, now decorated in carefully arranged accessories. Her bed had shoes neatly arranged just under the edge.

After a full minute she left her room, trying to project confidence.

The dining hall was loud.

People slowly turned to look at her in the doorway.

She raised her chin.

She set her eyes on Ron.

His jaw was slack. His eyes were a little wider than normal. The food on his fork fell off, plopping back onto his plate.

She smiled.

Pansy, Blaise and Draco were smiling from the Slytherin table, watching the hall watch her. There was a catcall from somewhere and then the whole hall seemed to be applauding and whistling and smiling.

Ron stood as she walked towards him. Her wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek. People ooh'd suggestively but Ron gave them a look and they quieted down.

Hermione sat down next to him and he put an arm around her. "You look incredible."

"Thank-you."

"Did Blaise and Pansy give you that make-over they've been planning?" Harry asked.

"Yes, that's where I've been all day."

"They did a great job." Ron smiled. "Even though I thought you were really pretty before."

She laughed, "Thanks Ron."

Harry smiled at them.

Everyone seemed quite impressed and very pleased.

The war didn't feel so close just then.

.............

**Here is a chapter for you! Yay!**

**I am fond of it, a little serious-ness and some light stuff at the end so you're not horribly depressed or anything by it. **

**Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it!**

**~Firestorm  
**


	13. Chapter 13

Harry pulled Hermione aside from the planning session on Wednesday.

"What's going on Harry?"

"We need to start thinking about…uhm…how we're going end this."

She frowned.

"I can't use the Killing Curse on Draco. I don't hate him."

"Oh, yes," Hermione nodded. "Of course. I was going to talk to you about that."

They began to walk together, out of the private dorm, up the hall and through the Slytherin common room.

"Do you have any ideas?"

"I have been toying with the idea of a potion, which Draco could brew himself and be in control of."

"That could work," Harry seemed hopeful.

"But, at this point it's too late to brew one and anyone willing to sell something that strong would be in league with Dark Lord. We don't have the time or resources."

"So…what else can we do?"

"I have been looking into the process of creating spells. It's fairly complicated but I can do it, I think. The one we'll need will require some runes and I can probably make it so that it does not require hate or dark feelings."

"Good. I'm really bad at runes though…"

"If you want, I can teach Draco the runes and then he can decide the timing, either before the battle or during, and you can just do the incantation."

"That would be best, I think." Harry ran his hands through his hair.

"I'll start working right now," she smiled and kissed his cheek. "I will be in the library."

"Thank-you so much Hermione, you're the best," he kissed her cheek too.

"I know," she laughed and walked away from him.

.....................

Draco reached up, stretching his aching muscles. As he extended his legs and pointed his toes, tensing his legs, he hit something. He stopped, relaxed and sat up.

A large box sat on the end of the bed. It was wrapped in green with a silver bow.

For a moment he suspected it was from Blaise but the card was in Harry's scratchy, messy handwriting. "Draco, good morning."

He rubbed his eyes and looked around, briefly. Finally, with some hesitation (as he had been taught to be suspicious of strange objects), he opened it. Inside laid a beautiful black bound sketchbook with a pack of charcoal pencils nearby.

He smiled.

The inside front cover read "_I want to see things how you see them. Show me? –Harry._"

Draco shook his head and laughed a little.

With that he got up and bathed, then did chose his clothes for the day and did his hair.

He chose pin-stripped black pants, white button down shirt, and a heavy winter robe. He carefully tied his green and silver tie, affixed his prefect badge and tied his perfectly polished black shoes.

Before he left the room, he took his family ring from the box and slid it on, feeling the cold, comforting weight of it on his left ring finger. He did not wear it very often but only when the mood struck him…or when he wanted to feel protected.

The sketchbook sat safely in his satchel, and he planned to use it during Charms since today was a theory day and he hardly cared at all. In the main room he saw Blaise sitting on a couch, hands before him, clutching a letter.

"Blaise?"

The boy looked up. His eyes were bloodshot.

"What's going on?" Draco set down his bag and walked over.

"D-Draco," he whispered, "It's my mum."

The blonde inhaled sharply, terrified for the next sentence.

"She's been taken."

.........................

Harry sat in class, absently scrapping dirt from under his nails since Draco always complained about it. Hermione was to his left and Ron was on the other side of her. Ron spent a lot of time making strange line patterns on his paper.

Hermione was, of course, taking a lot of notes. The board was already covered in technical notes and information, most of which Harry did not understand.

There was a knock on the door to the room.

"Yes?" McGonagall peered around, looking for whoever it might have been.

Snape stood in the door, dressed in black and stern-faced as always.

"Minerva, they need to see your little golden trio."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You'll probably want to go too," he added. "I will step in to teach for now."

McGonagall left with them, heading for her office.

Inside sat Blaise, holding his head in his hands. He was shaking, hardly breathing and nervous. Draco was pacing slowly, spinning the heirloom ring on his finger. Pansy sat next to Blaise, watching him carefully and occasionally patting or rubbing his back. Theo sat on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes focused on a tiny spot on the floor, keeping quiet.

"What has happened?" the Headmistress swept around to the far side of her desk. Ron and Hermione held hands, standing near the door and watching in concern.

Draco, now with Harry at his side, reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper that Blaise had read four hundred times already.

"Maya has gone missing."

"Lady Zabini…" McGonagall took the letter.

_Young Lord Blaise Zabini,_

_You are hereby notified that the Zabini family villa on Crete has been destroyed in a fire and remains of six human servants and fourteen house elves have been recovered. We have recovered a note addressed to you, transcribed below:_

_**We have your mother. Loyalty**__. _

_We will search for her throughout the island and have notified both Greek and Italian officials and they will search for her as well. We are very sorry for your loss._

_-Crete Auror Department_

McGonagall shook her head. "They're not very delicate are they?"

Pansy clenched her jaw. "I know that the war is supposed to start in only a few days and that is not much time, but is there anything we can do?"

"I can think of something."

They looked at Draco.

"I'll go to Voldemort, I'll bargain for Maya's release. Maybe he will let her go."

"You can't, he'll know you're double crossing him." Harry reached out and touched the blonde's arm.

"I cannot let her come to any harm, I won't let Blaise suffer for this stupid war."

"No," Blaise looked up. "My mother will not be killed. Don't sacrifice yourself. The war starts and ends the day after tomorrow… you don't have time for this. I will take care of it."

"What will you do?" Pansy stood as he did, reaching out to hold his arm.

"I'm going to talk to him."

"To the Dark Lord?" Pansy grabbed him, holding him back.

"Of course," Blaise took his heavy coat from the chair and looked slowly at Pansy. She glared.

"No, not alone." She kept her hand on his arm. "We're going with you."

"Who is 'we'?" Hermione asked, "We cannot risk all of you."

"I'm going alone," Blaise gently removed Pansy's hand from his arm. "He must know something about me and I don't want him to assume you or anyone else is involved in this…whatever it is."

"Blaise," the black haired girl shook her head, "I can't lose you."

"This isn't the time or the place," he said and pulled on his coat. "I'll be back eventually."

"Zabini you cannot be serious," McGonagall shook her head.

"You may not know this, but the Zabini family is an ancient one. We come from the ancient worlds and have never bowed to anyone for any reason. I am the scion of two great lines, as is Draco, and if this were Narcissa in danger, none of you would be so upset with him leaving. I am going to defend my family and that is all there is to it. My mother is the only family I have and there is nothing that any of you can do or say to stop me."

He took a few steps to the door.

"I love you." Pansy blurted out. He stopped moving and looked over his shoulder at her. Everyone, silent, looked between them.

He turned around.

"Blaise, when I said I couldn't lose you I didn't mean as a friend. I have been in love with you since first year and I've never said anything. I did not speak when we were inducted or when you dated the tramp during fourth and fifth year but now I am going to say what I feel. Blaise Astyanax Zabini, I am in love with you. I refuse to apologize for it. I refuse to let you endanger yourself without me at your side."

He just looked at her.

Pansy, in her school uniform and shaking ever so slightly, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her skin was pale, soft and clear. She had large dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The look in her eyes was a pure one. Her hands were clenched into fists, to stop them from shaking. She appeared fairly steady in her black leather heels but he could tell she was terrified and ready to fall at any second.

He shook his head.

"You're an idiot, Pansy." Everyone snapped around to look at him.

She crossed her arms.

"Why would you love me? I'm not worth the trouble."

"You're worth it to me."

"Absolutely not." He shook his head. "I love you too much to let you come."

Draco's eyebrows rose as he turned his head back to Pansy to see her reaction.

She glared. "Don't be a selfish fool, Blaise. You cannot do this alone."

"Then come," he snapped.

"Fine, I will," she grabbed her jacket and marched over to him. "Let's go."

Everyone, silently, watched them leave. McGonagall had long ago learned to not meddle with pure bloods and none of the other students wanted to get between these two specifically. Draco shook his head slowly, smiling only a little.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Go back to class. There's no reason to alarm everyone by disappearing."

Hermione agreed, pulling Ron with her back towards their class.

"Professor," Harry stopped them by addressing the Head Mistress, "We need to practice an evacuation drill and make sure everyone knows the plan. I know we've been announcing and practicing it since we decided on a plan but with the war so close we have to confirm everything and be certain they know."

She nodded, "I will plan one for after dinner tonight."

"Thank-you."

..................

Students calmly filtered down the halls, led by the glowing wands of their prefects to safe houses hidden in the depths of the castle. They could not have students in their usual houses since those would be obvious targets. The students were split up into eight color coded groups; each individual student given a swath of cloth to make sure they knew which color to follow. As soon as an attack (or in this case, drill) was perceived, the prefects lit up their wands with their appointed colors and went to the designated meeting areas. Students streamed there and then to the large, well secured rooms created and reinforced for just this event.

Harry watched the events unfold. Draco had Crabbe and Goyle take his place and Ron had Dean replace him since they would be occupied. Teachers with specializations that could be useful in the battle were posted around the castle while those with focuses in less useful things were assigned groups to stay with and help defend.

McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Remus, and the small group of students stood in the entrance hall, checking off the final list to make sure it went smoothly.

"Of course," Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck, "While there are explosions and screams and actual war surrounding them, the students are liable to be more panicked."

"But we can hope that they handle it well." Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder at the list.

"I suppose so."

"Come on, let's do a round to see how people are doing," Hermione smiled.

Ron broke off and took her hand, leading her towards the east side of the castle where groups one and two were.

Theo walked with Flitwick to check on groups three and four while Remus and McGonagall went to see groups four and five. Harry took Draco to the southern part of the castle where groups six and seven were hidden. Snape, alone, slowly walked to check on group eight. That same direction was where Narcissa was kept.

Her rooms were a high tower, closed off from everyone with a series of heavy doors, passable only by strong magic and predetermined spells. She was kept as secure as the Philosopher's Stone had been. The last of the doors could only be opened by Narcissa's volition.

Snape was one of only two people who had been allowed in since she took up residence. Draco was the other one. He would visit his mother for afternoon tea each day and discuss with her the shallow, pureblood gossip and news and keep her updated on the many plans of the war.

The rooms were decorated in light, almost white wood, with deep cherry accents. There was a large window over looking the lake and two large chairs facing out. Snape slipped in after addressing the children in their safe room.

She sat, staring at the deep bruised purple sky. A cigarette sat in the ashtray by her elbow, trailing a wisp of smoke in to the air. She turned over her shoulder to see him.

"Severus?"

"It's just me, 'Cissa."

She nodded and turned back to the evening.

He walked around and knelt before her, "Are you doing well?"

"I am locked in a tower, Severus, how do you think I feel?"

"I am sorry for that but Draco was doing what he thought was best for you. He just wanted you to be safe."

"Of course I am not upset with him for this, but you know that I am not one to be…trapped. Not anymore."

He took one of her hands and kissed it, looking in to her eyes. "The attack will happen soon and when they destroy the Dark Lord, you will regain your freedom."

"In so much as I will be back to the Malfoy manor where I will sit and rot under the cruel eyes of my husband." Her face was unforgiving.

"Perhaps, after the war, Lucius will relinquish some control of you."

"And then what?" She frowned, "I can venture to Diagon Alley twice a week for a few hours? Such a free life."

"He does this because he loves you and wants to protect you," Severus shook his head.

"I know," she interlaced her fingers with his. "Since my son will be dead by the end of the week and neither Lucius nor I can have more children…do you suppose he will let me go? Or maybe he will allow me to be with you?"

"Lucius, though severe, is a reasonable man and if you appeal to his better judgment, there is no way to tell what he will do."

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his in a rare show of affection. "Severus, do you love me?"

He looked into her eyes, which sat just centimeters from his own. The silver-blue eyes were ringed in sadness. His own, black and unforgiving, softened when they saw hers.

"I have never loved another, my brave beauty." He lifted his face and kissed her forehead. "You are my life."

................

**Well, that's Chapter 13 and there isn't much left to the story...Just a few chapters and it will be done. I hope you've been enjoying it and will continue to do so.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

The Death Eaters' hide out was distinct and dark. Blaise stood on the edge of the ring, Pansy stood to his right.

Lucius was on his knees, before the Dark Lord, with his arms hanging to his sides and his head down, long blonde hair hanging over his face. His mask lay, shattered on the ground.

"You, cur, have failed me," Voldemort snarled. Lucius shuttered in the face of his rage.

"I can do nothing, my Lord."

"I asked you to bring me the old man and you have done what? Nothing! Did you even locate him, Lucius?"

"He is too strong, and hides himself from me."

"You are a weak fool, Lucius and have strongly disappointed me."

"I apologize," his voice was unwavering. There was no fear or regret in his voice.

Just as the Dark Lord raised his wand to curse the pureblood man, there was a sudden flash of black and silver and Lucius was gone, apparated away. The Dark Lord, in rage, cursed the next closest follower. He screeched in pain and fell to the floor, writhing.

Blaise looked to Pansy.

Voldemort prowled the clearing. He snapped his head around to look for something.

"Where is the boy?"

No one knew what he meant.

"Where is Draco?" He screamed and everyone shuddered, stepping back from him.

There was silence.

Voldemort snarled, "Get out, all of you."

Blaise grabbed Pansy and pulled her out of the room to the hallway.

They pressed themselves against the wall and moved down it, keeping hidden and quiet. There were twelve or so Death Eaters who patrolled the head quarters. Blaise and Pansy had to be careful to avoid them between getting Maya and getting far enough away to apparate.

There was a narrow staircase to the left, which led down to the basement where prisoners were always kept. They pushed down it, often walking sideways to avoid scrapping their shoulders along the rough stonewalls.

Once in the hall at the end, they found themselves facing six iron doors, bolted and locked shut. Blaise rushed to the first door and pushed open the tiny viewing portal. Empty. The second, third and fourth ones were too. The fifth one had a stench of death to it and Blaise refused to look, hoping to find his mother in the last.

Each room had a single bucket for water and a drain in the floor. There was little air circulation and only some hay to provide bedding. The Dark Lord wanted his prisoners treated as much like animals as possible. In the last room, against the wall, sat the beautiful Maya Zabini.

She was a tall, severe woman. Her eyes were a brilliant golden color ringed in deep mocha brown. She had a high, strong forehead and straight nose. Her mouth was wide and graceful. Her rich, dark skin shone as if she had just showered and was staying at a resort. The way she sat and held herself was just like she always did, proud and graceful.

Blaise grabbed his wand and aimed it at the door. "_Incineras_."

The door shuddered and began to melt, disappearing into a puddle of liquid metal.

Maya looked up at her son. "Blaise?"

"Mum," he rushed to her side, "We're here to save you. We're going to take you back to Hogwarts."

She used the wall to stand. Her hands were shaking and she seemed rather unsteady on her feet.

The black dress she wore was tattered, dirt stained and ragged.

"Mum," he stopped her, staring with concern into her eyes. "What happened to you?"

She lifted her chin and shook her head, "Do not worry about me, bambino."

"Mum, I'll always worry about you."

Maya cupped his cheek and looked sadly into his eyes, "You will have to give me up someday."

"Please, do not talk like that," he took her hand in his.

"Does he have any way of tracking you?" Pansy asked, she was in the hall watching the entrance.

"No," she shook her head and Blaise cautiously brought her into the hall. There was silence above them. Pansy led them back up the stairs and stopped at the top, checking both directions of the hall before motioning them up too. The guards were not to be seen.

"Did he do anything to you that we should know about?" Blaise held on to her wrist.

"No," she said, "_He _did not touch me."

The main door was locked. "Okay, mum, if anything happens you have to get out of here and run. Apparate to Hogwarts, McGonagall is waiting for you."

She turned her head sharply to look at her son. "You have come all this way to save me, I will not leave you behind."

"Mum, please, trust me." He looked into her eyes, "You have to get out of here."

Maya grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and threw him against the wall. She grabbed the wand from his hand and aimed it at the other end of the corridor, "_Stupefy_."

A loud thud signaled the fall of a Death Eater. "Come on," Pansy led them away from the incident, "We can take the back route." Four more guards suddenly appeared, running around the corner after them. Maya hexed two of them, stunning a third.

They rushed, flying around corners and down corridors. More guards appeared from nowhere, pursuing them closely.

A small dark door blocked the end of the hall. It was apparently thick but gave way to Pansy's spell.

Outside the door lay a thick, jagged forest. "Go!" Blaise pushed his mother and Pansy through. A spell jetted past them, singeing the air.

Blaise leapt through the doorway too as Maya launched a spell over his shoulder.

"Come on!" Pansy jumped a fallen log. Maya went after her, sliding quickly down the steep hill on the other side of the tree line. The Death Eaters followed them closely, shouting spells and curses. Pansy grabbed a tree trunk, swung around and shot off four well-aimed spells, taking down three Death Eaters and incapacitating another.

Soon enough the trio reached the edge of the anti-apparation wards.

"Go," Blaise grabbed Pansy's hand, waited to make sure his mother disappeared before leaving himself, pulling the dark haired girl with him.

They arrived almost simultaneously at the school. Blaise took hold of his mother's hand and pulled her inside the gates.

McGonagall stood there; looking upset and rather horrified.

"What's going on?"

"There have been developments, please," she offered Maya her hand and began to lead them to the castle.

"What was the Dark Lord talking about to Lucius?" Blaise asked his mother.

"What do you mean?" Maya turned over her shoulder.

"In the meeting, Lucius was there. He had failed the Dark Lord in finding someone. He was about to be punished when he disappeared. Do you know anything?"

"Lucius only spoke to me once. He came to the dungeon, brought me tea, apologized deeply for the situation I had been put in, but then he left."

"Only that?"

"He said he regretted any pain I had been put in and that he trying to do what was right by his son and the world he had so wronged. He promised I would not be kept much longer. He asked for my trust, forgiveness and blessing. I gave him all three willingly; you see, he and your father were dear friends for many years. I have never had a reason to distrust or dislike Lucius. He was always very kind to me."

"Mother, he is the reason my father is dead."

Maya wrenched her hand from McGonagall and whipped around to look at Blaise, "Of all people on this earth, I loved your father most dearly. I was at his arm when he was killed. I saw the life leave his eyes. Do not lecture me on the subject. Lucius did not kill your father. Voldemort did. Lucius did not give him up. That coward Pettigrew did. Lucius did nothing but argue and beg for my life and yours to be spared. Assume nothing, my son, for you know nothing."

Blaise stepped back, faltering under his mother's rage.

"Please, everyone, Lucius is here at the castle. He can answer your questions." McGonagall looked between them.

"Why is he here?" Pansy frowned at the Head Mistress.

"He arrived only moments ago," she answered.

Maya squared her shoulders.

They walked into the castle with her leading them.

McGonagall told them that Lucius was in Narcissa's chambers and then took them there.

Inside the door stood Snape, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. Narcissa sat sternly near the fire while Lucius rested nearby with a tumbler of bourbon. Draco was on the couch, looking angrily between his parents. Theo, Harry, Ron and Hermione were off to one side, uncomfortable and confused.

"Lucius," Maya walked quickly to his side, "What is going on?"

He stood and kissed her hand, motioning for her to sit down. "Please, everyone, come in. I hardly want to keep you all standing about in discomfort."

"Forgive us our distrust," Draco crossed his arms over his chest, glaring.

"Draco," Narcissa snapped to look at him, quieting his harsh words with a look.

Slowly, everyone conjured seats and got comfortable.

"We saw you at the meeting, talking to the Dark Lord…"

Lucius frowned, "What were you doing at the meeting tonight?"

"We were there to get my mother out," Blaise lifted his chin, "Something you promised and neglected to do."

Maya folded her hands in her lap.

"I am aware," Lucius nodded, "I had some challenges, you see. Voldemort charged me with capturing and bringing Albus to him."

Everyone gasped.

"I could not, both for the old man's strength and my own cowardice. I have seen, in recent weeks, the error of this war and of my position in it. I have neglected my duties as a husband, father, Lord and friend. I have pushed my family aside for the favor of a half-blood madman. I ask not for forgiveness, I know it is not within reach, I ask only for tolerance. I beg that I be allowed to stay here, under whatever conditions you see fit, until the war is passed: until tomorrow evening if my heart's desires come true. I will help you fight him. I know his weaknesses, his strengths, his plans and his prerogative."

Narcissa's eyes slowly fell on Severus. He could see true sorrow in her eyes. She had given up hope for them to be together. Lucius had defected: he would be tried and spared after the end of the war. He would want to keep her as his own.

McGonagall pursed her lips.

"I would be more comfortable with this if we had some oath or a veritaserum interview. I do not want to risk the lives of the children or the staff."

"I understand," Lucius nodded to her. "I am at your will. Whatever you see fit, I shall bend to."

Snape, who had remained standing, was not listening. He was only looking at Narcissa.

Lucius happened to glance to him. He saw the looks passing between his dear friend and his wife.

Lucius knew.

He had always known.

He swallowed the last of his drink and stood. "I will give an Unbreakable Oath to defend and serve you, the castle and its inhabitants until the end of this war; near or far."

The room watched him for a long moment.

"The offer is enough," McGonagall stood and shook his hand. "I must attend to the school but the generals will be needing a word with you soon." She had taken to calling Harry, Ron, Hermione, Theo, Pansy, Blaise and Draco 'the generals' instead of referring to them as children, as it hardly seemed fitting.

She left.

Draco stood, "We'll be in the war room. Madam Zabini, might we trouble you to accompany us? We would like to inquire about a few things regarding your capture."

Maya took the hand Blaise then offered her. She walked out with them, carefully glancing to Lucius, Narcissa and Severus as she went. The group of students did too, for they were all both worried and curious about the goings-on.

..............

Blaise escorted his mother and friends down to the War Room.

Draco walked with Harry and Theodore. Harry was completely unsure how to act around the older woman.

Inside, with the tables and maps and preparations, Hermione conjured a chair.

"Madam," Draco seated himself too. He had only met Lady Zabini a handful of times, usually while stopping in with Blaise to visit her on their way somewhere else.

She had always been harsh, even with Blaise. They loved each other too dearly and thus had no qualms about being rough with one another or lacking subtlety. She cast her eyes to Draco and quirked an eyebrow, not amused or patient.

"What happened when they captured you?"

"I sat, quietly, in my home. The servants were mostly in bed for the night, as it was well past midnight. I heard a knock at the main door and stood, concerned because of both the hour and that fact that I live on a rather secluded part of the isle. One of the help apparently answered. I heard nothing but as soon as I reached the main hall I saw the door open, the body lying there, tinged green from the Killing Curse, and seven men, in their robes and masks, beginning to disperse into the house. They were going to kill everyone in attempts to find me. I am sure of that."

She stopped when Blaise began to cough. He put a white kerchief to his mouth to try and quell it, or at least be polite. No one saw the blood staining it as he continued to cough.

Maya just watched him. She knew what was wrong. She could tell.

Draco looked to Harry.

Hermione had spent the afternoon prior teaching Draco the runes he would have to know for the spell to work. She had given Harry the incantation. There was no way for them to practice it. One party had to be truly willing to die and the other had to be truly unwilling to kill them.

Draco had sat, memorizing the pattern and shape of the runes all evening.

Love, death, forgiveness, honesty, sacrifice, life.

He was terrified but he knew his duty.

...............

There was a heavy silence in Narcissa's quarters.

Lucius took a slow breath.

He finished his drink and stood.

"I am aware," he looked between them. Then, slowly, repeated himself, "I am aware."

Then he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

Narcissa turned to look at Severus.

"You see what has become of us?"

He walked over to her. "I only see that we are faced with troubles and that I still love you. I know that you are afraid of Lucius and his wrath, that you are scared for this war, and that you are worried for your friend. I know, more importantly, that none of these hardships have dissuaded me even slightly from loving you. Narcissa, I am sorry for all this. I will not stop loving you and I will not apologize for it."

She stood and smoothed her dress, "I love you too."

............

Draco and Harry left Blaise and his mother in the war room. They walked away, towards the Slytherin dorms.

"So…the war is coming in the morning," Draco looked up and traced the ceiling with his eyes.

"Are you scared?"

The blonde paused, "I am…but I know what I am meant to do. I am content and I know that, whatever happens, I will be doing right by all the people who have been hurt by this war. Greater good, I suppose."

"I guess," Harry sighed, "Our plan will work, I know. I just hate that it has to work out like this."

"Harry," Draco stopped them. They turned to face each other. The blonde reached up and moved some hair from the hero's eyes. "This is our last night together. I don't want to spend it wishing or whining. I want…I want to spend it with you."

Harry looked at him. "You know that I would do anything for you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay kids, this is the last (and VERY LATE) chapter. There are sexy things and character deaths (which I hope you've been expecting) so now you can't say I didn't warn you.**

**Please enjoy**

**.........  
**

Ron threw himself into bed just after one in the morning.

His feet were throbbing and his eyes stung from focusing for so long.

He was hardly scared for the battle. He was ready for that.

It was the waiting that he hated. They knew that the attack would come around mid-day though they would have no warning other than the Death Eaters being called. That would give them fifteen minutes to move the students to the safe areas and get outside to stand guard and defend the castle.

His stomach knotted. He was not scared for himself or for the battle. He was terrified of seeing Hermione hurt. That was the only thing truly upsetting him.

Since he met her, he had thought her beautiful. Her smile took his heart. In everything she did he found things to love. He laughed a little at how long it had taken them to realize it. He knew it was mostly his fault. Ron suspected it was his fear of the feelings and, maybe, his fear of hurting her that kept him from just asking her out.

The lion folded his hands under his head, smiled, and stared at the ceiling. It was horribly quiet. He was used to the strange nighttime noises of a boy's dorm but now, with his own prefect's suite, it was just him. He could not hear Neville snore or Seamus and Dean argue or Harry's bed creak as he climbed out for some midnight sneaking around. There was no Trevor croaking from under the bed, no empty cages by the window, fewer clothes thrown everywhere.

Then, suddenly, he heard the door opening. He sat up and rolled out of view, crouching behind the bed and waiting for the person to walk into view.

Around the corner appeared Hermione.

She had on pajama shorts and one of Ron's old sweaters that his mum made him for Christmas.

"Hermione?" He popped up. She gasped, startled and then laughed nervously.

"Ron, hi."

"What are you doing here?" He asked in concern.

"Nothing," she answered quickly. "I just wanted to see you. That's all."

He half-smiled, "We were just in the War Room for four hours."

"Oh," she blushed, "Right."

He sat back down on his bed and motioned her over.

"I like that sweater, where did you get it?"

"Just stole it from some loser," she teased and sat down next to him. He wrapped one of his long arms around her and pulled her into him.

They lay together in quiet and felt their heartbeats reach the same, calm pace.

She looked up and kissed him.

Ron, in response, held her closer.

They kissed for a long few minutes before the brown-haired girl pulled away.

"Ron, you know that I love you."

"I know," he assured her.

"And I know we're going to get married when all this is through but…if anything should happen…" she seemed slow to find her words, "I don't want to regret anything."

He kissed her forehead, "What could you have to regret?"

"Not," she paused, "Being _with_ you."

"Oh," he realized what she meant. "I don't want you to do anything unless it's what you want. Hermione, I love you and if you want to wait, I don't mind, I never have. There's no reason to rush just because you think something might happen."

She sat up and bit her lip. "No, I want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Hermione climbed over him, placing one leg on either side of the lion and leaning down to kiss him. It happened quickly, that they were farther than they had ever been before.

Hermione put her small hands on his chest and, as he rolled her over so he was above her, they stopped kissing for a moment and looked one another in the eye.

"You are the most important person in the world, to me," Ron said seriously. "I never want to hurt you."

"I know," she smiled and kissed him, "Go on."

They closed their eyes and kissed and became more deeply connected than Ron realized was possible. She did not cry or whimper or seem at all in pain, which eased Ron's worry. He left a small mark on the crook of her neck and she smiled at him, amused by the gesture.

When it was over they stretched out, side-by-side, and melted into one another. It felt as if they were one person with the same heartbeat and breath. His wide hands wrapped around hers, and they locked fingers. She kissed his nose and he laughed, kissing hers back.

It was not long before they were asleep and had forgotten the war at hand.

………..

Draco sat at his desk, finishing a letter to his mother. Harry was on rounds, making sure everything and everyone was tucked away for the night.

The blonde had written to his father and Severus already, and to Pansy, Theo, Ron and Hermione, Blaise and Harry too. He knew that he was not writing anything shocking or revealing but he wanted to give them all something to remember him by. It was selfish and a bit silly but he could think of nothing else to help them with their closure.

He sealed them up and cast spells for them to arrive with their addressees upon his death.

Then he sat back and sipped his wine and looked at the ceiling.

His favorite songs were playing on repeat out of the charmed music player. His room was warm, and he was wearing a pair of Harry's pajama pants because they were flannel and comforting.

After a moment the door opened and said lion walked in.

"Hey," he threw off his cloak and set his wand on the bedside table and then walked up behind the blonde.

"Hey," he answered. "How did it go?"

"Fine," Harry put his hands on the other boy's shoulders, "How are you?"

"Better now."

"Good," he leaned down and kissed him softly. "I need a bagel, want one?"

"I never say no to bagels," Draco stood with excitement and Harry placed the order to the house elves. They appeared just a moment later.

The boys sat on the bed and ate while chatting casually about their favorite flavor combination. It was meaningless.

When they were done Draco sat up on his knees and took Harry's hand.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything," Harry smiled, not sure what was coming.

"I want to spend tonight with you," Draco avoided saying 'my last night' because he knew it would only serve to upset the lion.

"You are," he smiled, pleased to have already fulfilled the request.

"No," Draco smiled too, "I want to be _with_ you."

Harry took a moment to realize what he meant.

"Oh!" He paused, "If you're sure, I'm willing to do anything for you."

"Really?"

"Of course," Harry leaned towards him, "You are the most important person to me, Draco. I love you. I will do anything to make you happy."

"I love you too," Draco smiled and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.

Harry responded, kissing him too and leaning back, gently pulling the blonde on top of him. They spent a long moment kissing before Draco worked up the nerve to pull off the other boy's shirt. Harry let him, breaking the kiss only long enough to remove the shirt. He pushed his hands under the hem of Draco's shirt, feeling the expanses of pale skin. His back arched, pushing against Harry and relishing the electric spark of skin on skin.

Harry slowly lifted the other boy's shirt off entirely. Lips drifted from lips to necks, to chests to stomachs. Hands slid over hands and arms, into hair, onto the buckles of belts and then, slowly, undid them. With some nervousness, they lost more clothing until nothing separated them.

Draco opened his eyes and smiled. "Do it."

Harry rolled him over and kissed the back of his neck. He reached down and prepared Draco, relaxing him to make it easier.

The blonde was ready, he wanted this, and he wanted Harry.

There was a slow motion and it was in. Both boys sighed partially in relief and partially in pleasure. Harry began to move, slowly at first, in and out.

Draco allowed for it and took as much pleasure in it as Harry did. They worked their way into a frenzied pace, moving as one and reaching a peak with little effort. Draco closed his eye and gasped as every nerve lit with the feeling of Harry inside him.

The lion grunted, delivering one final thrust before they both came, shocked and fulfilled.

Harry pulled out, tired, and threw himself down next to Draco, panting for a moment. The blonde extended himself out, sighing and content.

"I love you," Harry kissed his temple.

Draco smiled, "I love you too."

.........

Morning rose bright, and wholly unlike the day that lay ahead.

Draco woke in Harry's arms. He looked up and smiled, laying a gentle kiss on the hero's chest. Harry woke and smiled.

"Morning," he leaned over and kissed Draco's forehead.

"And the same to you," he rolled over, unfolding his arms to stretch them out over the bed.

Harry laughed. Draco's arm lay over his chest. It was warm and soft and reminded him of everything he was about to lose.

A thunder roused them immediately.

"Already?" Harry leaped up and pulled on his clothes. Draco did the same and grabbed their wands from the nightstand. The alarm rang through the school and there was a commotion to be heard in the other room of the suite. The boys rushed down just in time to see Blaise and Pansy leap down the last stair and rush forward.

"It's time," Draco shouted, putting his other arm through the hole of Harry's old shirt. It was loose on him but comfortable and aloud him to move freely.

The four ran out and through the common room, aware of the students filing to where they needed to be, but mostly focused on getting to the field out front. Draco ran through a list of spells and curses and defenses. He tried to steady his stomach and keep from letting his knees go weak.

They arrived on the field, Hermione and Ron just a half step behind them and the teachers ahead of them.

"Ready?" Snape looked over his shoulder at his godson and felt an iron weight fill his chest. He walked to the boy and stood at his side.

In the tower, Narcissa pressed her hand against the window and looked down in terror as the scene unfolded. Lucius was among the ranks of the light, just feet from Severus and Draco. They stood, ready and in formation as the forest exploded with darkness.

Pale gold light brushed over them as dementors and Death Eaters in black smoke and robes rushed forward like water escaped from a dam. Aurors and students and teachers sent out defenses, curses and spells, downing the first wave of enemies.

Red, blue, green, white and all colors jetted everywhere, filling the air with shining light and wisps of smoke. Bodies littered the ground. A powerful hex hit a wall and shattered it. Dust and stones flew everywhere, showering the troops and enemies.

Draco stood in the dust and rubble. He knew something was off, a slight charge to the air unlike normal. He felt an imminent ending.

"Harry," he yelled. Bright green snapped to him, trained to his voice.

The lion ran to him, looking concerned. Draco pulling him behind a failing wall so they could hear. The battle roared around them, wizard against wizard, werewolf on troll and auror against Death Eater. It was chaos but Harry could tell the Light was winning, inch by inch, and the number of crumpled men in black was rising. He stood before his white haired prince and the battle seemed to die away, muffled behind the wall and his own focus on his lover.

"I'm so sorry this has to be now," Draco said and Harry knew what was happening but he shook his head, trying to stop it from being said, from becoming real.

"No, no," Draco held the lion's head still, smiling though he was choking on tears, "If we knew this would happen today, I would have said it last night but now, now it has to happen." The wall swayed slightly under the force of spells and failing magic. Harry looked up at it but Draco held him steady, making eye contact so constant and strong that Harry could feel his own tears welling.

"This could be your only chance, love, and you need to take it. We knew, we both knew, how it would end. It has to end this way, I have to die. I cannot be the reason he rises again and more people die or are ruined." He took a step, loosening his grip on the handsome face he had grown to love.

"Please, Harry, be strong and be good. Kiss me one last time and go on with your life. I need you." Draco was crying openly, something Harry could never have imagined seeing.

He put his arms around Draco and pulled him close, resting his lips on Draco's and feeling the warmth of his body and the smoothness of his cheeks one last time. He inhaled the scent of him, knowing it would linger for a lifetime. Harry pulled away and looked into the iron eyes.

"Kill me, Harry."

"I can't, Draco, I can't."

The heir just looked at him, "You have to."

"But-"

Draco took another step back and just waited. He stood inside a ring of runes carved into the earth.

Harry raised his wand and uttered the spell Hermione created.

"_Finite Vida_," a nebulous lavender smoke slithered from his wand tip and circled the blonde.

"I love you, Draco," Harry said and watched the blonde inhale deeply.

"I love you too, Harry," he smiled just a little and fell to the earth, lids closing over gray eyes that clouded with death.

He ripped his eyes from the body and turned away. He walked around the wall, back into the battle.

The volume went up, thundering like hell in his ears but all he saw was Voldemort, hovering over his followers and weakened by the loss of his last horcrux.

Harry went to him, ignoring the spells that blazed towards him. They never hit though he knew some of them should have. Voldemort turned to him and laughed, unaware of his compromised situation.

"You'll never win, Harry, just give up."

The lion looked at him, "You are the only shard of your soul left, Tom."

The dark wizard held eye contact for a half second before breaking away to scan the battlefield, probably for Draco.

"Impossible. You would never harm my precious Draco."

"He's dead, Tom, and so are you," Harry raised his wand and yelled out the spell he always feared. The Dark Lord screamed as the green light hit. An explosion, like glass shattering, followed and specks of gold and black flew out. Harry covered his face with his arms and felt the pieces slice up his exposed flesh. He gritted his teeth and looked up when he knew it was done. Everything had stopped.

Death Eaters fell to the ground, screaming and clutching their Dark Marks. Aurors detained them quickly, taking advantage of the situation. Werewolves became humans, dementors became wisps of black smoke and it was as though they were never there.

Harry stood still for a moment and then turned back to the wall. He ran back and saw Draco lying where he fell, unharmed. Harry ignored the people asking his help and calling for mediwizards.

He sat down and pulled his dragon into his arms and sat, hugging the other boy close and crying. It felt so needless, he could have killed the Dark Lord without forfeiting Draco's life, and it could have worked. He rocked back and forth and cried and murmured words of love and regret.

Hermione, Ron, Blaise and Pansy stood a little ways off, stopping anyone from approaching. None of these people needed to see the hero like that.

Blaise rested his head on Pansy's and sighed heavily. Narcissa had to be notified. Lucius was on the field somewhere and so was Severus.

Pansy assured the Nubian she would find them and off she went, searching for her professor and godfather. She found them both under a tree, attending to the minor wounds of younger aurors.

"You two should come." She said, "There's something you should see."

Lucius nodded and followed Snape to the wall where they both looked around silently. The older Malfoy just nodded and turned away, "I understand."

Snape returned to the little group too, "If there is anything we can do, just tell us."

"Someone has to tell Narcissa," Pansy said and hoped they could do it for her.

"You may tell her, old friend," Lucius said to the darker man, "She will need you more."

"Thank-you," Severus said and meant it, recognition from Lucius was a relief.

Blaise watched the men return to their duties and knew that their stoic faces were show and sorrows were being saved for private times; Snape with Narcissa and Lucius…perhaps for never.

Pansy returned to his side and held his hand. "I miss him already."

"I do too, Pans, damn it but I do too," Blaise agreed.

Harry took a step from behind the wall, pale Draco in his arms, and he began to walk towards the lake, still crystal clear and smooth in the face of the battle.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione ran to his side but he did not seem to see her. "Harry?"

"I can't go on, not without him." Harry continued to walk and reached the edge of the lake. He took a step in and the icy cold reached into his skin, his muscles and his bones. He ignored the pain and kept going until he could not touch the bottom anymore.

They watched in a mixture of awe and disbelief as he kissed Draco and sank below the glass surface.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed and made a break for the water but Ron grabbed her.

"No, Hermione, no," he locked his arms around her waist and dragged her back, away from the edge. "This is between Harry, Draco and the end of things. He needs this and you know it, he needs to end it."

"What are you saying?" she turned her horror and rage to him, "Let him kill himself?"

"Yes," Ron yelled back, "He'll never be happy without Draco, we both know that. Let him do this now, let him go in peace. Don't make him hang around for a year or two or five and suffer because he's alone and without the person he loves. If you died I would go with you, you know that. Let Harry have this, let him go."

She gasped and buried her face in his shoulder, crying because she knew it was true.

The lake rippled and lay silent, still and seemed as if nothing had happened.

No one ever asked what happened to the body of their hero.

No one ever had to.

The letter to Harry remained, unopened, on his pillow.

Inside was a slip of parchment, and on it were the words, "_You're the most beautiful part of this world_."

...........

_Fin_


End file.
